The Home Substantiation
by Beckyseyedoc
Summary: Three years from now, Sheldon and Amy are challenged by changes in their lives... and "change" has never been Sheldon's strong suit. How will Sheldon and Amy come to an agreement on their home, and truly define what "home" means to them together? This is primarily a Sheldon and Amy story, but the whole gang will be involved.
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

The following story arose from watching two new movies this summer (and re-watching yet-once-again one old movie for which I could nearly recite dialog!), and a song that the radio station we listen to at work was repeatedly playing for a while... with "home" as a theme. This theme led me to ponder what meaning Sheldon would associate with the word, how that might be different from Amy's definition, and what changes (both small and monumental) in their lives might affect their vision of "home."

While not truly AU, this story is (for the most part) set approximately three years in the future, with some creative liberties included.

As such, I give you... The Home Substantiation

A brief note about updates: this is the first story I haven't completely finished before starting posting, and we have a few major projects at work that will tie my hands through the remainder of the year. I am hopeful to post updates on Friday mornings, and now having added this to the initial post, will do my utmost to keep this promise.

This story is for entertainment purposes only. No ownership of these characters is expressed, nor to be implied.

* * *

Prologue

Nacogdoches, Texas  
February 1980

 _Eight, eighteen, or forty-eight… it really doesn't matter_ , Clarice thought, as she turned over yet again. _Sleeper sofas just aren't comfortable for anyone_.

And it didn't help that this winter was colder – frankly, more brutal than usual. The wind was howling at the windows, and Clarice's nose registered the briskness of the air inside her daughter's home. She missed Jack's radiant heat - Clarice could always count on him to be her thermal blanket on cold nights. He was only a few miles away; at this point it might as well have been hundreds. But Clarice had promised Mary she'd be there to help, and Jack had understood.

Clarice fluffed her pillow, and tried snuggling further under the blankets she had been given. Her glasses were on the side table, but with one eye squinting, she could read the clock on the bookshelf against the wall.

2:30 a.m.

 _This is why people have children in their youth_ , she sighed inwardly. _Being awake in the middle of the night is for the birds_.

As if on cue, a faint cry came from the furthest bedroom, down the hall on the right. Knowing a second, louder cry would follow if she didn't soon act, Clarice threw the covers back, sat up on the edge of the thin mattress, and slid on her slippers. She grabbed her glasses from the table, and robe from the foot of the sofa bed. Clarice tied the belt in a loose knot as she walked quietly and quickly down the hallway. The first room was on the right: Junior's room, where the three-year-old slept in blissful ignorance of his sibling's stirrings. George's snoring was audible as she next passed the closed door to where he and Mary slept, in the master bedroom on the left. Clarice turned as she reached the last doorway on the right.

Assisted by the gentle glow of a nightlight plugged into the wall, a single crib came into view from across the room. The crib held two newborn infants only a few days old… souls that had formed together but were as different as night and day. One was wrapped snuggly in a soft pink infant sleeper, sucking contentedly on a pacifier. Her eyes were softly closed, and her head turned away from the beginnings of a commotion building beside her. Already, it seemed, she knew how much attention to pay to her sibling.

The other child, wrapped by a similar sleeper but in a robin's egg shade of blue, was having nothing to do with the pacifier that lay immediately beside him. His fists were clenched in an infantile display of rage, and his eyes forced closed. He looked ready to release a howl to let everyone within earshot know exactly what he was thinking, and whether or not they cared was already completely irrelevant to him…

"Now, Sheldon," his MeeMaw cooed, as she reached into the crib to lift her grandson.

Clarice's attempts to soothe Sheldon were met with an indignant stare… his pale blue eyes did not waver when they connected with hers, a bold moss green. She could see he had an innate sense of self; even though an infant, Sheldon felt no need to be humble before anyone. The depth of those blue eyes would develop over the course of the next nine months. The depth of that soul was already apparent to his MeeMaw.

But, at least, Clarice had his attention. Sheldon was quiet… for now.

"So, sweetheart, what has you up at such a wretched hour?" Clairce asked him calmly, not really expecting a reply. Sheldon's face visibly softened as he heard his grandmother's voice. He continued to look her directly in the eyes.

His MeeMaw knew what to check. Sheldon had last been fed only an hour ago, so the chances of hunger were small. Next on the list…

Ah, yes.

"That can't be comfortable, Sheldon. Let's get you changed."

Clarice laid Sheldon out on the changing table, and pulled up his sleeper. With the consummate skill of a well-practiced grandmother, she kept one hand on his stomach while reaching into the drawer for a clean diaper. Sheldon's eyes followed her movements. He remained otherwise still for her.

Clarice made short work of removal of the offending garment, disposed of and replaced it with a clean one over the top. A quick wet wipe around all ensured no irritant remained on his gentle skin. She fastened the new diaper closed, and checked quickly around his back to make certain all was secure. Clarice then pulled the sleeper back into place, and picked up her grandson.

"Better?" Sheldon's MeeMaw smiled, as she cradled him in her arms. And his eyes stayed linked to hers.

Clarice loved all her grandchildren, and knew they were each special in their own way. But this child… well, only a MeeMaw could see his gifts that would come with time. Clarice knew Sheldon would go far in this world, and knew also of the struggles that life would bring him. She vowed within her own soul she would nurture and guide him, for as long as life would allow her to do so.

Clarice settled down in the nearby rocking chair with Sheldon, who was seemingly wide awake after having been changed. He was a quiet baby when content… not that this was very often. But days-old Sheldon seemed to know where he belonged. Right now, _home_ was in his MeeMaw's arms.

Clarice drew a nearby blanket over the two of them, making certain not to cover his head. Sheldon laid his head down directly on his MeeMaw's chest, where both her robe and nightgown parted. He could hear the sure, rhythmic beat of her heart, keeping time with the rocking of the chair. Sheldon was warm, dry, and secure of both his MeeMaw's hold and her love. He snuggled in and closed his eyes.

His ears heard as his body felt the lullaby, sung softly by his MeeMaw…

 _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine  
_ _You make me happy, when skies are grey  
_ _You'll never know, dear, how much I love you  
_ _Please don't take my sunshine away…_

* * *

Chapter 1

Pasadena, California  
Thirty-eight years later…

This was the twelfth stop out of seventeen scheduled for the day, and Sheldon had already had more than enough three stops ago. He had been riding around in a vehicle that wasn't his, been subjected to germs that weren't his, and the number of colors and designs and choices were overwhelming his senses.

Sheldon sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Shutting out some of the extra stimuli – even only the visual ones – helped to allow Sheldon to focus his mind and gather his thoughts. What he wouldn't give to be back _home_ … 2311 North Los Robles, Apartment 4A, Pasadena, California… sitting on His Spot on the dark red couch, in his perfectly climate-controlled environment, drinking a cold soda through a piece of Red Vine and watching _The Empire Strikes Back_.

The mini-van suddenly jerked to a halt, narrowly avoiding hitting the car parallel-parked in front on the residential street. The movement shook Sheldon from his reverie. _Dear Lord_ , Sheldon extoled only in his thoughts, with more than just a small amount of piety. He released his involuntary stronghold on the arm rests, and started to breathe once more. A soft, warm, petite hand covered his, and a soothing voice reached his ear.

"Come on, Sheldon. You can open your eyes now. We're here." Amy whispered to him.

Sheldon cautiously opened his eyes, and leaned forward to survey the neighborhood through the front windshield from his position in the back seat. House after house on both sides of the residential street… not too cookie-cutter, but not too dissimilar… large front lawns with trees… a few kids milling about on their bicycles in the late March Saturday afternoon sun. Suburbia at its finest.

It made Sheldon sick in his stomach.

######

For as long as he could remember, "change" was a foul word in Sheldon Cooper's vocabulary. And it seemed that whenever he had his world exactly how he wanted it, something or someone would try to change it. It had taken innumerable roommate interviews, and more than a few roommates in his apartment before he met Leonard Hofstadter. Sheldon was able to train Leonard to be the best roommate possible (save, of course, a clone of himself), and they roomed with one another for eleven years. Leonard had left when he married Penny almost three years ago; only moving just across the hall, but that was nearly enough to break Sheldon completely. Nearly… but not quite. Soon after Leonard left, Sheldon's new roommate joined him.

And this one was unlike any other he had roomed with in the past. For this roommate not only shared his living room, kitchen, and bathroom… this one shared his bed, his heart, and his name. Amy Farrah Fowler and Sheldon had married as planned, one year after their engagement. They invited all their friends and family to the bed and breakfast where they had stayed following the fateful Valentine's Day train trip three years before. Sheldon and Amy were married on the wooden bridge overlying the pond, tucked away in a clearing of the wooded expanse behind the manor home.

The first year of married life had been kind to Sheldon and Amy, and as with many married couples, was a series of lessons in learning to live with one another. To minimize the shock to Sheldon's system from all the changes in his life, Amy had agreed to move into apartment 4A. She had agreed to compromise on maintaining a meal calendar and a bathroom schedule. Sheldon had compromised as well, sharing dinner preparation duties after work and agreeing to do away with the television schedule.

That was, except when episodes of Dr. Who or re-runs of Star Trek or Firefly were on. And then, of course, all bets were off. Amy would pick herself up, kiss Sheldon good bye, and go back to their bedroom to watch what she wanted on the new television she bought soon after the wedding.

After all, some things are cheaper than divorce attorneys - second televisions and good plumbers being among those…

In mid spring of the second year of Sheldon and Amy's marriage, Amy's 35th birthday came about. And with that occasion, for Amy, an awareness of the passage of time as well. Amy understood, statistically speaking, her chances of having difficulty conceiving and bearing a child were increasing with each passing year. And while she could rationalize that Sheldon should have been more than enough "child" for her to raise, something else from deep within her called out… a need that could only be fulfilled with Sheldon being willing…

Sheldon, for his part, had conflicting thoughts and emotions around trying to have a child of their own. He wanted to raise a family of benign overlords, someday… but he had only had Amy to himself for the last eighteen months and wasn't certain he was ready to give that up yet. Sheldon knew the science and the math surrounding their risks due to Amy's increasing maternal age, and knew that while these windows weren't closed, they definitely were not as wide open as before. Several long, hard, serious conversations were exchanged around all these ideas, many of which ended with one or the other in tears, or walking away to come back to the table at a later point after heated tempers had cooled. But one day, Sheldon's mind became certain… and he reached across the coffee table and took his beloved's hands in his own. Amy looked into his eyes and saw his decision before he even spoke a word; her emerald eyes danced along with her heart for the joy she felt from what she saw there.

Besides, as Sheldon grew to appreciate fairly quickly, practice is often fun…

Nature, unfortunately, is a harsh mistress sometimes, especially for those who like to plan. She had her own timetable, and it did not mesh completely with Sheldon and Amy's. Several months passed, and Amy was left in tears of disappointment each month when she realized their efforts had been for naught. Sheldon buried his own frustrations so as not to aggravate Amy's, and he anguished, quietly but often, over whether there would ever be a success. They had one blessing - each other - to hold on to during those sorrowful times, and to spur hopes anew for a following month.

And so it was on Christmas Eve, nearly two years after the wedding, when Amy sat Sheldon down on the couch, in front of the brightly-decorated tree that offered the only light for the room. Amy gathered herself, and watched as Sheldon's pupils fully dilated, when she shared with him the news she had fought to keep to herself for the last few days. This news brought the widest smile she had ever seen to his face, and warranted her being lifted high and spun around the room once again in a celebration of joy…

######

Sheldon reached into his pocket to pull out the next in a long line of disposable, pre-moistened antibacterial towelettes. He tore into the packet with relish, and shook open the thin, folded paper towel to manage the door handle on the other side of the van for Amy. The door slid open with ease, and he held out his hand to assist Amy from the van.

"Sheldon," Amy said, exasperatedly, while rolling her eyes for seemingly the hundredth time. "I can get out of a car by myself, you know."

"I know," Sheldon replied. "But in your condition…"

Amy scoffed once again at Sheldon's over-active concern. The bump in the midst of her belly - almost five months along - was only just beginning to make its presence known. It barely made a difference in her balance. Amy's sense of self-reliance was put to the test, but there was a not-so-small part of her that relished the attention after having felt unimportant to Sheldon in times past. If Sheldon wanted to be a little protective, Amy was willing to let him. But just a little.

Amy took Sheldon's hand and stepped down, looking around to survey the neighborhood. Then she turned to the house they were next to view. The house was two stories, with a large wooden front door, and attached two car garage. Deep red brick ran the entirety of the face of the house, and a large picture window in the front room gave ample opportunity to view out the front yard. Amy took Sheldon's arm, and squeezed it softly. "I like this one," she murmured in his ear.

Sheldon looked down to see Amy's broad smile. He knew her arguments, and worse than that… Sheldon had to admit Amy was right. Owning a house made sense. There would be more room in a house than with their apartment, which would be important once their child arrived. Initially, there would be a need for space for the infant living with them and the accompanying furnishings, Amy had reasoned. Later, the need would grow with their child's toys as well.

Paying money into a house mortgage that you would (at least in theory) be able to get back out when you sold it at a future time was better than pouring money into an apartment rental that you would never see back again. The interest paid into the house was tax deductible.

All were intelligent, well-reasoned arguments for purchasing a house. And yet, Sheldon couldn't help but see all the work that invariably goes into a house… lawn maintenance… appliance upkeep… painting… plumbing… And then there was the big thing that outweighed them all. Change.

Sheldon knew where he was in Apartment 4A. He could walk the entirety of the apartment blindfolded and not bump into or trip over anything. He knew exactly how many steps there were from his side of the bed to the bathroom (fourteen). He knew without thinking which cabinet the dishes were in (second from the left), and which shelf the milk was on in the refrigerator (top right). Life was predictable in his apartment. And Sheldon didn't want to see that upended.

The realtor turned to Sheldon and Amy from the front door. Her smile seemed a little forced – she'd had to make more concessions and amendments for this couple, and in particular for the male party, than she'd ever had to before - but she opened the entryway and invited them in. Amy stepped up the front two steps, pulling a reticent Sheldon along behind her.

The entryway opened into a large, open room floor plan. To the fore of them was a living room space, with large vaulted ceiling and a gas fireplace across from the entry. Amy headed to the right first, quickly taking in a powder room before heading toward the kitchen. Sheldon inwardly counted steps (ten… eleven… twelve) as he approached the opening to the kitchen and dining areas. _Tile floors… grout that would harbor an infinite number of germs… other people's germs_. Sheldon shuddered at the thought.

As Amy looked over the appliances, Sheldon spotted the first evidence the current owners weren't as uncouth as he thought. There was a tea kettle on the stove, and a box of teas on the center island. Amy took Sheldon's arm before he had a chance to sort their collection of varied teas.

Amy pulled Sheldon along when she opened the door immediately off the kitchen, and found the wonder of all wonders – a laundry room! Now this house had Sheldon's attention. For well over a decade Sheldon had brought his (and for the last two years, their) laundry up and down the stairs between 4A and the apartment building basement. _Maybe_ , he thought, _having a house with same floor laundry wouldn't be a bad idea after all…_

Exiting the kitchen and headed back to the left, the realtor led Sheldon and Amy up the stairs to the second level. There were two bedrooms upstairs, of similar size with their current bedroom in the apartment, and a standard full bathroom in between. Back downstairs, Sheldon stopped to peer in the office space, while Amy and the realtor led onward to the master bedroom. For Amy, it was love at first sight. The king size bed they had invested in soon after the wedding, which was really a bit too big for their apartment, would fit easily in this new room. Sheldon joined the other two as they toured the master bathroom: a walk in shower was nice, but _separate_ sinks? _His own_ sink? He wouldn't have to share space with anyone, let alone their germs? Few things said "paradise" to Sheldon, aside from the words _his own_.

Sheldon was beginning to warm to the idea of a house after all, when he heard Amy gasp. Sheldon ran to Amy's side, thinking something was amiss, and he found her with her hand over her mouth, wide eyed, and staring into the last room of the house.

A small room, to be sure, and just off the master bedroom. More of a secluded alcove… not truly a bedroom, as there was no closet. The walls were bare, but a warm shade of chocolate in color. What this room had that so swiftly grabbed Amy's attention and now held Sheldon's as well; this room offered a glimpse of the future in its midst: a dresser, crib, changing table… and a rocking chair.

Sheldon knew without another breath inspired, step taken, or word spoken. He'd been had.

Realtors are as different as people can be, but the good ones are always prepared. Sheldon and Amy's realtor knew she saw a light at the end of her seemingly endless tunnel. The agent had paperwork ready to prepare an offer to be presented to the current owners, and shuffled Sheldon and Amy outdoors in the back yard to discuss the house while she hurriedly made the offer contract ready.

Amy stepped out on the deck to the rail, and leaned over to view the back yard. It was open and grassy, with a few flower beds to the east side of the deck. A wrought iron fence surrounded the yard, allowing for views in all directions. In spite of the unusually cool spring weather, Amy wasn't shivering. Another lovely consequence of the new life growing inside of her…

Sheldon stood back and watched Amy as she leaned her head back and breathed in deeply. A soft smile passed over her features.

"You're happy with this place?" Sheldon asked.

Amy didn't bother to open her eyes or turn around. "It feels like home," she sighed happily.

Sheldon scoffed. "Home is back at our apartment."

Amy opened her eyes and turned to face Sheldon. "Home isn't a place, Sheldon. We live in an apartment; this is a house. 'Home' is what we make of wherever we live."

Amy stepped up to Sheldon, took his hands in hers and looked deeply into his eyes. "I need you to be fully honest with me, Sheldon. Nothing else will do right now. We've researched everything about all these houses we've seen today: safety, crime rates, insurance, driving distance to the university, schools…

I know this is a big change. You're going to have to start driving to work. We'll be making more meals at home to afford this. But it's time… we are going to need more space in just a few short months. The finances make sense. We can continue looking at other places, but this one somehow feels right to me. Do you want to keep going, or make an offer here?"

Sheldon returned the depth of Amy's stare. Sheldon saw within Amy's eyes the future, and knew that change was afoot. No amount of his will would stop this force of nature. It was time to graciously admit defeat. But he would not go quietly.

"I get the office for my computer room, right?" Sheldon asked.

Amy grinned broadly. Then an odd look came over her face… uncertainty first, then recognition…

"Oh!" Amy quietly expressed.

"What?" Sheldon was immediately troubled.

Amy's hesitation changed into a smile that would stretch across universes. She took Sheldon's hand, and brought it over the top of her gently protruding stomach.

And Sheldon felt it… as soft as a feather, but definite, discernable movement against the palm of his hand from inside Amy. Sheldon looked at Amy, shock and awe written on his face. Sheldon had never before felt so in tune with nature and the grand plan for the universe, as when he first physically felt that part of the both of them, growing inside of Amy.

Suddenly, Sheldon was at peace. This was meant to be.

"I think she agrees with our choice of a house," Amy shyly told Sheldon.

"Or he does," Sheldon replied, with a similar smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

Sheldon and Amy had decided long before that the baby's gender would be a surprise at the delivery. On this decision, and maybe this one only, they had been unanimous from the start.

Now, it appeared the three of them were making the decision for their first house together.

Amy's smile on re-entering the house told the realtor all that needed to be said. And the agent breathed a huge sigh of relief.


	2. Chapter 2

Moving day came two months later, over a holiday weekend as the California spring was changing into summer. All five men, including Amy's father, Rob, were moving the furniture and boxes packed with Sheldon and Amy's belongings on a rental truck. Across town at the new home, Amy, Penny, Bernadette, and Amy's mother, Carole, were busy unloading and unpacking. Sheldon's admonition to the other three women - to watch Amy carefully - was accepted with good humor, but completely unnecessary. Penny, Bernadette, and Carole were not about to let Amy attempt picking up anything even remotely too heavy.

The heat of the day was building, but the group had started early that morning. Even Penny had agreed to the pre-dawn wake-up call from Sheldon, to avoid the sweltering California summer weather. As a result, just before lunch time, the guys were nearly done with putting the final load from the apartment on the truck.

Sheldon was alone in the nearly empty apartment, waiting for Rob, Leonard, Raj, and Howard to return from their most recent trip downstairs to the truck. Sheldon had lived in Apartment 4A ever since starting his research as a theoretical physicist at Cal Tech in his early twenties. Now, all that remained were a few small boxes, scattered around the living room, ready to be taken downstairs. And one last piece of furniture.

Sheldon wandered about the living room where he had spent so many years, suddenly stupefied by the memories that banished all reason within his mind, refusing to let go of their hold on him. Memories of innumerable science fiction movies watched… gaming sessions with his friends that so often ran into the early morning hours… even being pinned to the floor by Penny in a last-ditch wrestling match he never had any hope of winning… it all flooded back to him.

 _Oh, Amy_ , Sheldon's heart called out while his brain continued to be held hostage by the memories of times passed. Memories of her, too… many cups of tea shared over the kitchen counter, a first "I love you, too," expressed in another moment Sheldon's reason temporarily gave way to his heart, and more recently, the joy he felt at Christmas, in learning he would someday soon become a father for the first time. And Sheldon was helpless against the power those memories held over him.

Sheldon had no conscious control over his limbs, when he walked over to stand in front of the last piece of furniture in the apartment… the leather couch.

Sheldon's eidetic memory recalled in vivid detail the day the couch came to be an irreplaceable part of the apartment. Leonard was newly his roommate, and didn't fully understand Sheldon's paramount need for constancy. At first, Sheldon found the couch abhorrent. But then, placed just so, the couch afforded Sheldon the best view (neither too direct, nor oblique an angle for watching the television), and the most temperature-regulated location within the apartment, regardless of season. Thus, the far right position on the couch became His Spot. Even after the wedding and Amy's move in to the apartment, this position remained Sheldon's.

Leonard and Raj's chatter trailed off as they walked through the front door. They found Sheldon staring blankly at the couch, lost seemingly millions of miles away. Leonard walked up to Sheldon from behind, and put his hand on Sheldon's right shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. Sheldon didn't even flinch, which bothered Leonard all that much more.

"Are you OK, Buddy?" Leonard asked.

Sheldon's gaze continued directed at the couch, but his eyes and his mind were focused elsewhere.

The front door opened once again, and Howard and Rob stepped in. Their jovial conversation was quickly stemmed by the same sight that had moments earlier silenced Leonard and Raj. Both men also immediately understood the issue at hand.

Sheldon turned his head toward Leonard. "Everything is changing." Sheldon's simple answer was nearly Vulcan… an unemotional, quiet statement of fact… almost a return to the Sheldon of old. The human side of Sheldon, however, was no longer content to be buried. This time, the nearly robotic response harbored so much more: soul-felt mourning for all that had passed here that would not be again, anxiety about what had already happened this day, and worry over other changes that would follow in the near future.

Howard stepped forward, placing himself physically in between Sheldon and the couch. Sheldon turned his gaze to his friend's face, and Howard startled a little at what he saw there. The last time Howard had seen this look, Sheldon had been running from the front window of his mother's house to get back in the rental car, on their visit to Texas several years ago. Sheldon had been deathly afraid of what he had seen at that time: change. Then, it was the changes in his mother's life.

This time, it was Sheldon's _own_ life that was changing. And that heightened Sheldon's angst to a nearly intolerable level.

Unlike the last time Howard had seen this look, this time, however… Sheldon wasn't running.

Howard knew Sheldon was in turmoil. Years ago, this would have been cause for a great deal of teasing, and celebration that "The Mighty Sheldon Has Fallen." But that same trip to Texas had been the start of a new relationship between he and Sheldon; they had become close, and Howard drew on those memories now to assist Sheldon instead of torment him.

"You're right," Howard started, softly. He held Sheldon's gaze without wavering. "Everything is changing. You're moving… not across the country, only across town… but still, you won't be in this apartment anymore. You'll be driving to work instead of riding with Leonard. And Amy is expecting your first child in only a matter of months."

Sheldon looked down and began to tremble slightly at the last of Howard's words. Howard reached up and placed a hand on Sheldon's shoulder. Sheldon's eyes returned to Howard, and the shivering abated.

"And while nothing will be the same, trust me when I say that it will be wonderful. Do you remember when Bernadette and I talked about starting a family, how initially she didn't know if she wanted children at all? Change was scary for her, too. And those first few months after Max was born… man, they were rough. I wouldn't wish stomach problems on anyone, let alone an infant.

But Bernie and I _both_ changed. When all this started, we didn't know what to do or how to do it. But we found out who to ask all those questions. We made mistakes, and then we learned… together."

Howard dared a small smile to Sheldon, which he returned. "And you and Amy will start this home together, and you will raise your child together. It doesn't mean the changes won't be tough sometimes, because they will. You're going to make mistakes…" At this, Howard shook Sheldon's shoulder gently, teasingly. "Even you, Sheldon… but you're going to learn from them. And once change happens, and the fear of change resolves, you are left with your new normal."

Howard chuckled, and pointed to the object behind him. "Kind of like this couch. When this couch first came to the apartment, it took some time to get used to… and then it, too, became your new normal."

Sheldon nodded, and looked around. The apartment hadn't changed physically in the last few minutes, but Sheldon's perception had. The kitchen cabinets were open, the shelves were barren; no dishes remained inside. No appliances were left on the countertops. The walls of the apartment, previously covered with memorabilia from comic books and Comic Cons and favorite television shows over the years… now were pale and stark, accented only by a few nail holes and hanging wire. There was a thin film of dust on the cabinets and wood floors, after all Sheldon and Amy's belongings had been moved or boxed.

Suddenly, the apartment felt like just any other apartment to Sheldon. He didn't belong here anymore. His home awaited elsewhere.

Sheldon stepped over to the corner of the couch, and Leonard, Raj, and Howard found the other three corners as they seemingly read his mind.

"On three, then?" Sheldon asked. Each of the others nodded. When "three" was said, they all lifted the couch, and Rob held the front door open.

On the way down the stairs, the others grumbled good-naturedly as Sheldon barked out directions.

"He's back," Raj muttered.

"Yea… sorry about that," Howard huffed, as he shifted the weight of the couch.

######

The new house was a buzz of cheer and laughter… all except for Amy, who had been disallowed from helping move their belongings into the house. Penny had caught Amy in her most recent attempt to pick up something she probably shouldn't - a dining room chair – and with Amy's mother's support had banished her to the kitchen. Amy was taking dishes from boxes and putting them in kitchen cupboards; a task Carole had agreed would help keep Amy out of trouble.

Abetted by the hormonal and emotional roller coaster that is pregnancy, Amy's temper had nearly run its course. She felt perfectly fine, and in her own mind there was no earthly reason she shouldn't be allowed to fully participate in establishing her own new home. Amy's own physicians had placed no restrictions on her, and told her after each examination that all was proceeding normally.

"This is ridiculous. I'm pregnant, I'm not an invalid," Amy voiced her complaint once again to the open air. As with all the times before she had no support in her argument. Most frustrating of all, this time no one was in the room to hear Amy vent her frustration.

Amy had finished putting the everyday dishes away in the lower cabinets, and was left with only the items that were rarely used. Those, she reasoned, could go in the upper cabinets, where Sheldon could reach them when they were needed.

But Amy's petite five-foot-four frame would not allow her to reach those cabinets, and she was stuck… but not if she was _truly_ on her own…

A three-step stool was propped against the wall in the corner of the kitchen. It beckoned to her with a siren's song of self-reliance, and just a little bit of misbehaving. Amy's eyes narrowed with pleasure, and her smile grew as she reached for her touch of freedom.

Amy opened the step stool and latched it as quietly as she could. She stepped up toward the upper cabinet, feeling glorious in her misbehavior. A surge of endorphins rushed through Amy as she climbed those few steps, with one of the serving dishes in her right hand. The biochemical high was as intoxicating as the wine she, Penny, and Bernadette used to share on girls' nights in Penny's apartment only a few months ago, prior to her becoming pregnant.

 _What they don't know won't hurt them…_ she thought.

Just then, Amy heard the front door open, and the men bantering back and forth. The good-natured bickering could be heard throughout the house - it was obvious they were carrying in something heavy from their most recent trip back to the apartment. Amy quickly made room on the back of the top shelf for the ugliest of the wedding presents they had received. She was on borrowed time, and Amy knew it. If Sheldon caught her on the step stool, there would be hell to pay. If one of the other women did, it would be worse…

Footsteps swiftly came up behind her, and a loud, authoritative voice boomed. "Amy Farrah Fowler Cooper, if you don't get off that step stool this instant…"

 _Damn… it had to be her_ , Amy thought, as she rolled her eyes back and stepped back down with a huff and a discernable lack of grace. "Mother, really…"

"If you fall, you _and_ my grandchild will be hurt. Neither of those options is acceptable." Carole stood with her arms crossed and one foot tapping. Amy was not going to get out of this one.

Rob came around the corner to see what all the fuss was about. Sheldon was immediately on his heels.

Sheldon had heard the entire conversation, but his mind fixated on one word only. He plowed past Rob to Amy, and took her by the forearms, checking her over. When he saw for himself that Amy was uninjured, Sheldon's concern turned to overwhelming relief. The cascade of emotions got the better of him, and Sheldon verbally launched into Amy.

"What were you doing on that step stool? Don't you know you could get hurt?"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Amy shrugged Sheldon off of her, and stormed off. Penny and Bernadette intelligently parted – much like the sea in a tale of old - to allow a path for Amy to storm through, headed down the hallway. They looked at each other, seemingly unable to determine what their next move should be. Neither Penny nor Bernadette wanted to tackle the problem of Amy's hormonal frustration and rage. They slunk off to see what else could be done to help unpack, and stay clear of the battle at hand.

Sheldon started to follow Amy, but Rob grabbed him by the arm. Rob held up one hand, and motioned for Sheldon to give him a few minutes alone with Amy. Sheldon nodded, and Rob turned to follow his daughter.

Sheldon joined the rest of the guys in the living room, looking uncertain as how to proceed. Raj and Howard both understood there was no possibility of a "win" in this situation, and their faces expressed compassion toward Sheldon. Leonard, ever the empath where Sheldon stood, knew what to do. "Hey, Sheldon, where's the best place for this couch in the living room? You don't want too direct a view of the television from your Spot…"

Rob wasn't sure where Amy had gone, but years of experience of refereeing between Amy and her mother had taught him well. Rob found Amy in her new-to-her bedroom by following the all too familiar sounds of muttering and huffed breaths. Amy was sitting on the bare mattress of her bed, tears running down her face, and a few choice words accenting her frustration.

Rob sat down beside her on the bed, but did not say a word or reach for her. He knew Amy needed to come that final step to him. This time, it was by words instead of action.

"Dad, so help me…" Amy pounded her fist into the mattress to vent her irritation.

"It's only because we all love you, and don't want to see anything bad happen," Rob murmured to Amy; he knew the time was right. Rob wrapped an arm around Amy, and she leaned her head into Rob's shoulder.

"I know," she said softly. As ever, Amy's Dad knew how to undo her bad temper in a simple act. But getting at the underlying frustration was going to take a little more work, both with Amy and the others involved. Rob's opportunity to start Amy on the path was at hand.

"Amy, I know you've said Sheldon has difficulty with accepting and adapting to change," Rob began.

Amy nodded.

"Have you ever thought that maybe you do as well?"

That made Amy sit up and take notice. Amy looked at her Dad's calm face with surprise enveloping her features.

"Sheldon has swallowed a lot in the last two months to make this new house a reality for you both, in terms of accepting change. How long had he been in that apartment?" Rob asked.

Amy thought for a moment. "Fifteen… no, wait, sixteen years."

"Exactly. So the decision to move to a new place – and not just another apartment, but a house – must have taken some doing for my son-in-law, huh?"

Amy nodded, and chuckled. "You might say that… I thought the realtor was going to kill him or both of us before it was all over."

Rob's voice dropped even lower. Amy had to work to hear him. He reached a gentle hand over to Amy's stomach, now obviously protruding forth.

"And this baby? It wasn't Sheldon's idea, at the start, was it?"

Amy couldn't hold her father's gaze any more. "No," she admitted in a whisper. "We'd always talked about having children, from the very beginning, but to actively try… that was initially my idea."

Rob picked up Amy's chin. "There's nothing wrong with change, Amy. Everything and everyone changes with time, even Sheldon. Sheldon's grown, just in the few years I've known him. He's calmer. OK, 'change' is still a challenge, but he's willing to consider it. You wouldn't be expecting if he wasn't. He's going to be a good father to my granddaughter."

Amy snickered a little, and smiled at her Dad.

"OK, maybe that's just a little hoping out loud… But Amy, truth told, how has being pregnant changed you?" Rob asked.

"Dad, I'm fine…" Amy started. Rob arched an eyebrow and looked her directly in the eye, but said nothing.

Amy gave in. "OK, Dad. You're right. I need more sleep. There are some odors that were wonderful before, now make me sick to my stomach. I find myself eating things I otherwise wouldn't. Sheldon came home one night after work about a month ago and found me passed out on the couch with a half-eaten box of cheese crackers in my hand. And I can't stand them!"

Rob laughed out loud.

Amy continued. "And I find myself thinking more about the future. What kind of a world are we bringing this child into? How are Sheldon and I going to be able to be good parents, and make sure this wonderful baby grows into a happy, healthy adult?"

Rob surrounded Amy with a hug. "All of what you're experiencing is normal, Amy. With the possible exception of the cheese crackers…"

Amy laughed softly into his chest, but didn't let go of her Dad.

Rob grew more serious. "Amy, you have to work at change, too, not just Sheldon. Fear of the unknown is very real. It will make you want to curl up into a ball, so that nothing on the outside can touch you in your middle, where you are vulnerable.

But you can't let that happen. If you don't let anything touch you, then _no one_ can touch you. Including your family, your friends… and this new precious one that will be here in just a few months."

Amy sat up, and nodded.

Rob stood up, and offered Amy his hand in assistance. Initially, Amy looked at him askance, and then her better nature took over and she laughed lightly. Amy took her father's offered hand and let him help her up off the bed.

"See, that wasn't _so_ bad, was it?" Rob poked lightly at Amy's arm. Amy relented.

"No, Dad… I'll behave myself. I promise."

Rob leaned down, and picked up the stack of folded bed linens on the end of the bed. He tossed the first item – a bed pillow – to Amy, and she caught it mid-air.

"Just don't think you're suddenly a lady of leisure, though," Rob admonished lightly, and joined her in helping to make the bed. Rob and Amy's laughter, resonating from the back bedroom, could be heard down the hallway. An audible sigh emanated from all the others present, as they recognized the weight that had been lifted.

When they had finished, Amy came out the bedroom on her father's arm. They made their way to the living room. Sheldon was sitting on the couch, verifying its new location, but stood up immediately as he saw her. Sheldon searched Amy's face for signs of distress, but he saw none. She smiled gently at him.

Just as he had done at New Year's two and a half years ago, Rob gave his daughter's hand over to Sheldon, and Amy kissed Rob on the cheek. Amy saw the memory pass in Sheldon's eyes, and knew he felt the same as she had that winter's day, repeated in this present moment.

But this time, Sheldon didn't wait to take his wife into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm wasn't trying to upset you. I just worry about you overdoing things, and either you or the baby being hurt," Sheldon murmured in Amy's ear.

"I'm sorry, too," Amy breathed into his ear. "I know you're only trying to help."

Amy pushed back away slightly, just enough to see Sheldon's face but not disengage from his embrace. "I'm capable, though. You've got to let me do what I can. Otherwise…" Here, Amy's face took on an impish grin, "… I might get used to being waited on hand and foot. I might even decide I like it."

Sheldon heard Penny and Bernadette's giggles, as he smiled back at her. Never _his_ Amy, he knew. She needed to be self-reliant.

"Yes, ma'am," Sheldon brought out his seldom-used Texas drawl. And the rest of the gang fell apart with laughter.

Rob had walked away to the kitchen, to give Sheldon and Amy the space they needed. He found Carole putting pots and pans away in the cabinets, obviously without input from Sheldon and Amy. Rob sighed and Carole turned around. Rob raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"You expected me _not_ to help?" Carole asked.

"Define 'help.'" Rob chuckled, and grabbed his wife's open hand. He took the frying pan out the other hand before she had a chance to use it on him. Rob yanked suddenly, and Carole startled a little as Rob pulled his wife in close for a close embrace and kiss.

Carole willingly obliged, then smiled up into his face. Her voice dropped in volume and tone, as she stroked the side of his face. "Robert, really… this is their house…"

Rob's eyebrow went back up again, but he didn't relent of his hold on her. "Yes… _their_ house… so what happens when Amy comes to look for a pan or Sheldon wants a glass, and they can't find either for what you've done?"

"They'll fix it later. Amy didn't need to come back to all these boxes." Carole's smile relented a little. "How is she?"

"Amy will be fine. I remember someone else who wouldn't be told to take things easy when she was pregnant, either." Rob responded.

Carole's memory – near to Sheldon's eidetic standard – wasn't challenged to remember the disagreements she and Rob had held when Carole was pregnant with Amy. Carole easily and vividly recalled moments she wanted to be left to do on her own what she had done hundreds of times before, and Rob stopped her mid-stream. Carole understood Amy's reluctance to let others take over for her, but saw the situation from a new perspective – that of a concerned Mom and Nana-to-be.

Carole knew Rob was right. She willingly nodded her agreement.

The afternoon was spent moving furniture about (the gang much more willing to do so for Amy, as opposed to Sheldon's near-to-constantly changing mind) and unboxing and packing away all their accumulated belongings. The office became Sheldon's computer and gaming room, where all the paraphernalia of multiple conventions were displayed with Amy's approval. The remainder of the house took on a traditional arrangement, in spite of the leather couch prominently displayed in the middle of the front room.

Some things, like the old couch, truly were a moral imperative…

Leonard and Rob took the rental truck back when all had been unloaded, and returned with take out from the new-to-them local Chinese restaurant. All the others held their collective breath, while Sheldon took his first bite of tangerine chicken… he chewed thoughtfully…

Then Sheldon smiled and nodded. "That's actually pretty good." And the sound of relieved breaths was audible through the room.

Rob and Carole left soon after dinner, although Amy's hug for her father lasted a moment longer than usual for them. The look they shared as he walked out the door told her all she needed… he knew and understood.

The movies had been unpacked earlier, and a great discussion was held as to which movie to watch this evening. Ultimately, _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ won the day, as all the guys agreed with Sheldon… they were going to be too tired to watch the sequels, which in this case were never as good as the original, anyway.

After the movie ended, the popcorn had been eaten and the cans and bottles put into the recycling bins, Amy and Sheldon thanked everyone for all their help, and bid their guests good night.

Sheldon brought Amy by the arm and sat with her on the couch. As inobservant as Sheldon could still be, even to him it was obvious Amy was completely worn out. Amy leaned into Sheldon's shoulder.

"We did it," she said, weakly.

"Did what?" Sheldon asked.

"The first major life change of our marriage. We moved. And we're still speaking to each other," Amy teased, with a twinkle in her eye.

Sheldon's eyes filled in where his words left off. "More than speaking to each other…" He leaned over and kissed his wife: slowly, deliberately, and with great feeling.

Amy's energy level rebounded. "Ooh, promises…" she breathed. Amy wrapped her arms around Sheldon's neck, and in a low voice made a suggestion directly into his ear.

Sheldon leaned back, more than a little distressed by Amy's notion. "Are you sure that's OK? That's not going to hurt you?"

Amy looked him directly in the eyes and smiled. "The doctor said for several more weeks…"

Sheldon scooped his wife off the couch in one fell swoop. She gasped, startled at his uncharacteristic display… and then was silenced as Sheldon kissed her while standing in the midst of their new living room. Sheldon carried her off to the bedroom, setting Amy down gently on the bed. Amy eagerly welcomed her husband to their room and into her arms with a passionate kiss.

Sheldon didn't need an engraved invitation. The verbal one had been sufficient.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : I wish to offer an apology to you, the reader. This update has been far too long in the making, and to be honest is yet unfinished. At one reader's suggestion, I started to delve into how Amy would perceive "home," and I came to the realization that Amy's experience with each of her parents would be completely different. If "canon" Amy had only the incidents we have seen with her mother to associate with home, it would have been a dark place, indeed. There had to be another force to offset the near puritanical upbringing she is portrayed to have experienced, or Amy would never have been the kind, patient person she became. Thus, Rob was created. So, here, we have one side of the story… and the other side to come.

My gratitude, also, for your patience. I am facing a crossroads in my life, and it has engulfed my existence. I expect the resolution will take several months, but whichever path I choose, there will be pain and loss. The upheaval inside me is difficult to handle, to say the least. To quote a famous lady of a far better soul than mine: "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." So, thank you once again, for being patient with me and my story.

* * *

 _Thank goodness for air conditioning_ , thought Amy, as she reached back and pulled her hair upward into a plastic hair fastener at the base of her head. The slight breeze created by the flow of air felt like heaven over her newly exposed neck. Amy sighed and closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the all-too-brief peace and quiet… before leaving the bathroom and unbeknownst to her, exhibiting a slight waddle.

If any person ever required proof that their deity was male, one simply needed to observe a woman, heavily pregnant, during the summer months. Mid-June is not a time for any woman to be pregnant.

Particularly not in Pasadena, California.

Particularly not in the third trimester, nearing thirty-two weeks.

 _It could be worse… at least we aren't still looking at cars…_

######

Bringing Sheldon and the concept of "driving a vehicle" together to the bargaining table was a challenge that would have tested the patience of a true saint. From the very beginning of the house search, it was clear to both Sheldon and Amy: Sheldon would have to start driving to and from work at the Cal Tech. The clarity of this fact did not outweigh Sheldon's response to it, however.

Sheldon's high anxiety with operating a vehicle primarily involved the other drivers on the road with him. After all, very few people held as high an IQ as did Sheldon. The innate lack of predictability of other motorists, and lesser intelligent beings at that, led Sheldon to avoid driving at all costs. Even from an age when his peers would willingly have given an eye tooth for the opportunity to drive, Sheldon readily chose public transportation instead. In spite of the germs of his fellow riders and the need for bus and taxi pants, Sheldon used both in order to avoid the risks associated with driving a vehicle on his own.

Many years later, Sheldon became reliant on his then new roommate, Leonard, to provide him chauffeur-like transportation, not only to and from work, but also the grocery store, the comic book store, the movies… the list went on and on. This dependence became a negotiated component, documented in a subsection of the Roommate Agreement. And Leonard was legally and legitimately "stuck" in the accord.

It took all of Amy's steadfast perseverance and faith to convince Sheldon to finally learn how to drive, which occurred quietly without their friends' involvement, long before they were married. Although Sheldon never became truly comfortable with the concept of driving, he accepted the need to master this "life skill." And if other people of lesser mental faculties than he could learn the concepts, then _certainly_ Sheldon could do so as well…

Years later, Amy's pregnancy and Sheldon's impending fatherhood brought the driving situation back to the forefront once again. There would be a period of time after the delivery when Amy would not be allowed to drive, mandating Sheldon be ready and available. Afterwards, Sheldon would need to be able to drive in an emergency, even if they hadn't moved from apartment 4A. Now, in a new house 10 miles away from the University and well outside walking distance from the nearest bus stop, the die was cast.

So, Sheldon immediately dove into the internet, and to his great joy found a treasure trove of all sorts of data: safety, reliability, gas mileage, insurance costs, and re-sale value… of all the different vehicles available on the market nearby to their house. The lists went on and on. Sheldon's eyes sparkled as his face lit up from the multiple varied opportunities for data analysis.

And Amy's eyes rolled when she saw the monster she had helped to create.

Even so, for all their preparedness, searching for a vehicle became a two-week session of evenings and weekends spent on multiple car lots, looking at and driving cars left to bake in the Pasadena summer sun. Different vehicle types melted into one another, as would a chocolate dipped ice cream cone eaten by a young child on a lazy weekend afternoon.

Eventually, Sheldon and Amy found a vehicle that was satisfactory to both of them. After Amy released Sheldon to whittle down the salesperson's resolve with a litany of questions and unending commentary on the vehicle, Amy played her "ace card"…

Herself. A pregnant woman left standing for any length of time is a ticking estrogen-laced time bomb. Let alone one left outside in a hot SUV on a Saturday afternoon in June.

That salesman never stood a chance. Amy's own powers of persuasion, fueled by raging hormones and an aching lower back, finished the deal. Amy's gift was also in part a genetic trait, passed down from her adept attorney mother. Carole would have been proud to have witnessed her daughter in action, but alas, missed the show. Later, she and Rob would have a good laugh when the story was shared with them.

The fruit of Sheldon and Amy's labors… a new-to-them hybrid SUV that would transport a growing family more easily, and provide a second vehicle for Amy and Sheldon to get to and from work… easily fit alongside Amy's older, dependable sedan, in the garage of their new home.

######

Amy and Sheldon were sitting on the floor in the midst of the living room. The couch and living room table were pushed to the side. In front of them both was the task at hand: putting together furniture for the baby's room. The furniture came with instructions, of course… but this was Sheldon, after all, who Amy was working with. The same person who, many years before they had ever met, had worked with his friends to put together a shelving unit for Penny. There too, the instructions had been cast aside with aspersion, in favor of a characteristically ridiculously complicated design. And if anyone could complicate putting together a simple shelving unit from IKEA, it was Sheldon, with Leonard, Raj, and Howard.

Sheldon eschewed the assembly directions when opening the box for the baby's crib and dresser. Amy had pulled them out of the paper recycling bin Sheldon had casually tossed them in a few minutes before, and carefully, surreptitiously tucked underneath the couch cushion. She had learned that lesson, long ago… many things could be tucked in storage under a couch cushion, and Sheldon would be none the wiser.

Sheldon stared at the neat piles he had created of assembly pieces for the furniture. Solid wood supports, wood veneer backs, metal screws and acrylic handles all were in their places. The tool box and tools Rob had given him last year for Christmas were sitting on the table.

Deep inside, Sheldon quietly acknowledged a dim truth he didn't want to openly admit to: he had no idea where to start.

"If you want, I can get those instructions…" Amy started, gently.

"No!" Sheldon exclaimed immediately, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Between us, we have multiple doctoral degrees. If we can't put together a dresser and a crib without instructions… particularly those likely generated by some engineer," here Sheldon pulled a face, while Amy rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know," Amy decided to let the matter drop. It was useless to argue with Sheldon when it came to his feelings about the value of an engineer. Although when it came to their friend Howard, who was himself an engineer, Sheldon's feelings had definitely mellowed over the years.

Amy watched as Sheldon surveyed all the parts. She knew that truth that Sheldon was burying. But he would not accept help from her, or anyone else who offered. Sheldon would need to ask to assistance first himself.

Amy swallowed her mild annoyance over the untenable situation, and used the arm of the couch to help her off the floor. Her days of being able to maneuver around the changes in her body were numbered. Sheldon saw her struggle, but had learned not to offer his proud wife any help in getting up. She, too, needed to ask for assistance, before aid would be accepted.

Amy walked toward the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and brought out a pair of water bottles. She came back to the living room, and tapped Sheldon on the shoulder with a cold bottle. He looked up at her, and smiled his thanks as he took the bottle from her.

Amy more wisely chose to sit out the remainder of this struggle from the benefit of a side chair. Getting up off the floor was getting to be a Herculean task. She wasn't willing to make that mistake again today.

Amy surveyed the spectacle of parts scattered across the living room floor. It occurred to her these pieces all fit together in some semblance of order much like a puzzle, one that she wasn't (nor Sheldon, if the truth be told) able to see… at least, for the moment. It seemed somewhat appropriate, as this new baby that would be arriving in only eight short weeks, also would somehow fit into their lives, even if Amy couldn't see how that would happen at that moment. Will she or nil she, in less than two months, Amy was going to be a mother. And even more of a shock to the system, Sheldon would be a father.

 _Are we really ready?_ Amy wondered silently. _We'll, that's a little bit of shutting the barn door after the horses have bolted…_ she chuckled to herself.

Amy watched Sheldon tentatively putting pieces of the crib together, to see if he could determine how they fit relative to one another. Watching Sheldon fumble the parts took Amy back to her early years, at a Christmas in her parents' house long ago…

######

December 1991

Pasadena, California

The Christmas tree was set up in her family's living room, festively decorated with multi-hued lights and ornaments (both those purchased from a store, and several irregular ones, made by a small pair of hands in elementary school). In front of the tree were opened packages and piles of mangled wrapping paper. It appeared all the gifts had been opened, and while Amy had gotten plenty of things she needed (underwear and socks were ever present each year), there was the one thing she had wanted desperately… but what she really wanted had been missed, as she knew it would be.

A doll house.

Eight-year-old Amy quietly sighed, off to the side of the room. Her reaction was missed by both parents, who were busy in the midst of cleaning up. Amy knew didn't dare show any signs outwardly of her disappointment, but the sadness left a bitter taste in her mouth. Possibly sensing his daughter's heartache, Rob turned from his chore of picking up around the Christmas tree, and looked into his daughter's sorrowful eyes.

"What's the matter, Pumpkin?" Rob asked. "Did Santa miss something?"

Amy's emerald eyes pleaded with her father, though her voice was silent. Amy willed herself not to allow the tears to form.

Rob stood, and walked over to sit on the couch, next to where his only child stood. He easily picked Amy up, and set her on his lap. Amy leaned into his shoulder, and closed her eyes as his strong arms wrapped around her.

 _Be strong, Amy_ … she admonished herself.

Amy was intelligent beyond her years; gifted both scholastically and with a caring spirit. But even at age eight, Amy continued to lead something of a sheltered life. Her mother's overbearing, protective nature and rules often kept Amy from being able to make friends, which caused her much pain. And, when young children discover a difference in a peer, they can sometimes be quite cruel.

This was the year that Amy had found out the truth about Father Christmas. It had been in the harshest of ways, from the mouth of Melinda, one of the prettiest girls in Amy's class. One of the girls Amy would have loved to have been friends with, but who didn't have the time of day for Amy.

Unless, it was to torment her. Then, Melinda had all the time in the world. When Melinda found out Amy believed in Santa… well, Melinda took it as her personal duty to address this particular failing she saw in Amy's education.

And Amy was crushed, but refused to let her parents know.

So Rob sat holding Amy, unaware of what was breaking her spirit… on what should have been one of the happiest days in his little girl's life. And he felt the first slight dampness hit his shoulder.

Rob lifted Amy to be able to look in her face. And Amy's heartache took over for her will.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Amy whispered, as the tears began to flow.

"Pumpkin, what's wrong?" Rob asked quietly, as he pulled Amy back to his chest. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

Amy started to sob. "D… Daddy, I… I know."

"You know _what_?" Rob asked, hugging her a little tighter, but completely dumbfounded and at a loss as to how to console Amy.

"They… they told me." Amy couldn't stop herself now. She buried further into her father's chest.

"Who? Who told you what?"

"The kids at school, Daddy. About Santa." It was a solemn whisper. And the truth was out.

"Oh." Rob replied.

Amy had shared her heartfelt Christmas present desire with one other person besides Melinda at school. The Santa at the mall had heard of Amy's wish for a doll house this Christmas. And with one stroke three days ago, Melinda had assured Amy the doll house would not come to pass. Not this year.

Rob and Amy sat there for a few minutes, while Amy gathered herself back together. Like most Daddys, Rob was lost when Amy cried. He wanted to solve it all, but this couldn't be easily fixed. In truth, Rob wasn't even certain where to start.

Little did either of them know, a force greater than the both of them had taken this situation in hand, days before…

Rob shifted on the couch, causing Amy to sit up. She brushed away her hair from her face, and dried her tears on the sleeve of her nightgown.

"It's OK, Daddy. I'll be all right."

Rob tilted his head, and looked with pride at his brilliant, strong little girl. She would be OK; that he knew. But something occurred to him… maybe he could make it a little better.

Rob stood up, and took Amy by the hand. "Come with me."

Amy went willingly with her father, to the door to the garage. Rob lifted and carried his unshod daughter to the car, unlocked the door, and pulled the lever for the trunk. In the trunk was a large box…

Amy's eyes immediately transformed, brightening from heartache to excitement. Rob saw the change, and knew this time they'd hit the mark. The doll house had been Carole's idea, but Rob wanted to be a part of Amy's joy, too.

"I didn't get a chance to put it together before church last night. What do you say we do this together, Pumpkin? You and me?"

Amy squealed, and wrapped her arms tightly around her Daddy's neck.

"Thank you, Daddy! It's just what I wanted!"

"Make sure you thank Mommy, too…" Rob set Amy down just inside the back door, and went back to get the dollhouse box from the back of the car. Amy ran to the kitchen, and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother's waist as Carole leaned down to kiss her daughter on the forehead.

Amy was barely in control of herself, bouncing in place, after running back to watch Rob bring the box inside.

Carole smiled from the kitchen, as she brought breakfast on a tray to the living room. Pastries for all, juice for Amy, and coffee for herself and Rob.

Since the dawn of mass produced children's toys, anything related to dolls is guaranteed to have three things: obscenely tight packaging, innumerable stickers, and some of the worst assembly instructions known to man. And neither Rob nor Amy cared. The instructions were quickly set aside as the two worked to put the house together. It took most of the morning, including taking things back apart when they discovered their mistakes along the way. But for Amy and Rob, the joy was in sharing the work together.

Afterward, Amy ran to her bedroom to get a doll to start playing in the new house. Rob turned and smiled at Carole. "We don't need no stinking instructions…" Carole laughed at his reference, smiling as she watched Amy plop down in front of the new toy. The tear Carole quietly wiped away was a merry one… for the beauty of the bonding of her husband and daughter.

######

Sheldon looked up at Amy, watching the changes in her face as a long-passed memory was moving in her. "Amy?" he asked, gently.

Amy came out of her reverie, shaking her head slightly and looking off into the distance. "Sorry, Sheldon. I was just remembering a Christmas many years ago. I was in third grade, and my Mom bought me a doll house I had been wanting. It's funny, watching you work on this crib, it reminded me…"

Amy looked at Sheldon. "It reminded me of working with Dad to put that house together. We didn't have instructions, either. We made mistakes in putting it together, and took things apart more than once. But when it was done, it was beautiful. I played with that house for years."

Sheldon stood up, and took Amy's hands in his own, and looked deeply into her eyes.

"That sounds like a home. You're all human… you make mistakes and fix them as best as you can when they come up. But you're always working together… you're never really alone," Sheldon stated simply.

Amy was stunned to silence. Sheldon was rarely this philosophical, but when he was, he was invariably right on the mark. She could only nod her agreement.

"But in this case, Amy… I think I want the written instructions back. I can't figure it out, and our child's safety could be at risk if it's not done right."

Sheldon started to walk around Amy, headed toward the kitchen and the bin in which he left the instructions earlier. Amy reached out a hand to grab Sheldon's arm to stop him. She leaned down, lifted the cushion nearest her on the old leather couch, and pulled out the assembly instructions she had quietly stored away earlier that morning.

Amy smiled at Sheldon, and in handing him the papers, Amy found her voice. "I'm glad you agree with me."

It was Sheldon's turn to chuckle. He remembered the first time he found Amy had stored something underneath that very couch cushion. That item, too, had been stored against a future need, and done so with hope and love.

Sheldon helped Amy up from her seat, kissed her gently, and drew her into his arms… at least, as best he could these days with a baby in their midst.

Amy and Sheldon spent the remainder of the day putting together the pieces of furniture that were to be used in the baby's room. In spite of following the instructions, Sheldon and Amy made mistakes, and had ample opportunity to take things apart to put them back together again. They alternately cheered at their successes, and swore oaths against the instruction writers at their failures. In the end, Sheldon and Amy felt closer…reinforced in the knowledge they could face any challenge life brought their way, if they faced it together.

Sheldon and Amy could have called for help: certainly, their gang of compatriots and Rob and Carole would have been over to lend a hand with nary a word. But this day, Amy and Sheldon wanted to complete this task together… as the home and family they were creating.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: If you have not watched the third episode of The Big Bang Theory from season 9, you are cautioned this chapter contains a reference to an event in the episode. This particular event has haunted me from the time I heard about it several weeks ago (I am one of the "spoiled"). It has been one of the few times I thought the writers went too far for a joke, and it was far from funny in my sensibility. I beg your indulgence in my attempt to remain in line with the television show's story, while bringing the character of Amy's mother (in this story, Carole) back from the dark place they have set her.

A special thank you to you, the reader, for your continuing patience with my story. A major change is coming in my life, and while it consumes a great deal of my time and thought, I promise to you this story will be completed (if not in the time frame I had originally intended). My unending gratitude to all who have expressed their concern. Your support means the world to me. Blessings to you all.

* * *

 _BANG!_

The sudden, unexpected loud noise reverberated throughout Apartment 4B at 2311 N. Los Robles, causing all the occupants to jump. Even the youngest, still encompassed in the warmth and protection of his or her mother's body, startled at the commotion.

Without conscious thought, Amy reached down and rubbed the top of her belly, intuitively attempting to soothe the little one to come. The pain from the tiny pointed foot (the one that was kicking Amy from underneath her ribs) subsided, and she was able to breathe without discomfort once more.

"Penny, do you mind? I'm getting pretty beat up over here," Amy implored, jokingly.

Penny's own startled appearance softened. She had been closest to the noise and the reverberation of the expanding compressed helium that occurred during the balloon's explosion. Penny sheepishly grinned toward Amy. "Sorry, Ames."

Bernadette rushed over from the kitchen to bring Amy a soft drink in a glass, and set it down in front of Amy. The reason Bernie hurried had nothing to do with the beverage, however. Bernie reached over to place her palm on the front of Amy's well protruding belly. "Ooh… can I feel? Is he kicking you right now?"

"Still hoping for a playmate for Max?" Amy smiled at her friend, as she shifted to allow Bernie a better angle toward her stomach.

A small, curly blond haired head picked up briefly at hearing his name. Max's deep brown eyes looked quickly around the room to find his mother, who he spied near the couch. The two-year-old soon realized he wasn't in trouble… not _this_ time, at least… and returned to the toy truck he was alternately pushing and chasing across the wood floor in the apartment.

Penny reached for another pink balloon, and strapped the opening over the helium tank handle. She twisted the valve at the top, allowing the gas to escape into the balloon. Penny grabbed another length of white ribbon, and tied the balloon off. She allowed it to float to the shallow ceiling of the apartment Penny shared with Leonard.

"Sorry, Bernie. I think this one's a girl," Penny replied; she watched the balloon and smiled knowingly as it rose in the air. Suddenly, Penny's gaze turned to Amy, and her eyes took on a mischievous glint.

"If that's the case, however… Amy, when she's fifteen, you better keep her locked up… away from 'Little Howard.'"

Amy couldn't help but laugh out loud, and Bernadette scoffed. Inwardly, Amy groaned at her friends' good natured but constant debate over the sex of Sheldon's and her child. Amy still wanted to be surprised at the end… there were so few good surprises in life… but by the same token, she was grateful she only had a few more weeks to wait herself.

Amy surveyed the apartment that Penny and Leonard had shared for over four years now. Penny and Bernadette had worked hard through the morning and early afternoon to put away all the trappings of Leonard's comic book and gaming life. The room had been transformed, decorated now in hues of baby pink and soft blue. The kitchen table was itself covered with mints, nuts, fruit-soaked punch in a bowl, and a cake that by itself took nearly half of the table space.

The clock on the wall read 1:45 pm; the remainder of the shower guests were due to arrive in another 15 minutes. In addition to Bernadette, Penny had invited several people from Amy's department at the University, and Amy's mother Carole to attend the shower.

Meanwhile, Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj had decided on an afternoon of fun at a local Paintball establishment. The Geology division had no desire for a rematch after the sound thrashing they received last month at the hands of the Physics department, however the Chemistry leadership were looking for a contest, and bragging rights.

"There will be blood tonight!" Howard intoned with a heavy Spanish accent, unexpectedly grabbing his wife for a sound kiss, before the four left 4B. Penny and Amy called out in glee, but Bernadette sighed longingly after Howard released her. She loved it when Howard performed imitations of famous actors, or spoke in various accents. But a _Spaniard_ … it sent shivers down Bernadette's spine.

As the men departed, the guests for the shower began to arrive. It occurred to Amy how much things had truly changed. Eight years ago, Amy wandered unwittingly into this world with her first blind internet date, when she met Sheldon. That led to a friendship with her Bestie, Penny, and later with Bernadette. Eight years ago, Amy had no real friends… no relationships outside the ones with her parents, and even then the one with her mother had been strained for as long as she could remember.

Interestingly, Sheldon helped Amy to repair the one with her mother as well.

This afternoon, Amy watched as several people she knew milled about the apartment, enjoying refreshments and sharing stories and advice for raising a child. Amy took heed of the information provided that made sense, and mentally discarded of that which did not fit her plan.

The guests in attendance enjoyed a variety of games as well. Amy remembered Bernadette's embarrassment at her own shower when she was expecting Max… a game involving the length of string it would take to go around her expanding abdomen… but Amy realized now that being made self-conscious by the length of a string was silly. Knowing that the expansion was normal, and that the baby inside was doing well – that was all that mattered.

Those in attendance were gracious enough to bring gifts to assist in the early days for the new baby. Multiple packets of diapers and tubes of rash preventative cream and wipes; bottles of baby shampoo and wash; innumerable onesies, baby nightgowns, pacifiers, and toys… all were provided at the kindness and thoughtfulness of Amy's friends, new and old. Penny kept a list of the gift-givers and their gifts, to allow Amy to easily send the requisite Thank You notes. Amy's heart was grateful for all the assistance of her friends.

Toward 4:00, the shower began to wind down. People left, individually or in groups, all wishing Amy well through the last weeks of her pregnancy and the delivery to come.

As the last of the guests left through the front door, Penny, Bernadette, and Carole began to clean up what was left. Amy was shooed into a chair, specifically enjoined by her mother against assisting with picking up and relegated to relaxing and keeping the others company.

Penny was amassing the decorations on the kitchen table, but did not have the storage box she kept for the need. Carole informed her she had placed it in the hall closet, just inside the entry, to keep the box out of the way. Amy offered to get the case for the decorations, and hopped up as quickly as she could before anyone could deny her the opportunity to help.

Amy went to the coat closet door, and opened it to look inside on the shelf for the storage box. The musty smell of coats put up damp after a rainstorm and left to dry, and dust from ages past assaulted Amy, triggering her olfactory memory. There was no light located inside the closet; the sole illumination was provided through a series of external narrow ventilation slats about two feet off the floor in the door. Amy's senses were overwhelmed, and she lost her balance, falling forward. Unfortunately, at that particular moment in time, little Max found a door ajar that he knew wasn't supposed to be opened.

And so, Max did what every other two-year-old child would have done. He shut the door to the closet… with Amy inside.

Amy was immediately transported back in time to her childhood. The closet at the home of Amy's youth smelled very much like this one, and reflexively Amy sat on the floor of the closet, much as she did in her early adolescence. The fetus, seemingly sensing the growing despair and fear of its mother, started to kick and thrash around from inside. It appeared the baby wanted to wake Amy out of the stupor of the haunting of Amy's childhood, but even this call was hopeless against the barrage of memories attacking her psyche.

Amy's heart began to beat furiously… sweat beaded across her forehead… the small room of the closet that already smelled unbearably awful also became unbearably hot…

Amy's fragile hold on her own mind gave way. She suddenly and completely lost control, screaming from the top of her lungs.

Penny and Bernadette, hearts and feet racing, arrived at the closet simultaneously. Amy's piercing cries were unmistakable evidence of a soul in the throes of torture. Penny threw open the door to the closet, and reached in to pull Amy out. But Amy was in a state of utter panic. Unaware that her Bestie was attempting to assist her, Amy fought against the intruder: her arms and legs flailed to thwart the attempted rescue. Bernadette stood back, helpless against the situation. She cradled and soothed her son, as he cried with his hands held over his ears.

Carole stepped in at that moment, and gently pulled Penny back. She reached into the closet, and grasped Amy's right forearm firmly.

"Shh, baby. It's OK."

Carole pulled Amy out of the closet, and sat on the floor with Amy in her arms, like she would have with twelve-year-old Amy so long ago. She rocked back and forth, soothing Amy with gentle sounds and rubbing slow, firm circles on her back. Slowly, the loud, panicked shrieks subsided… and were eventually replaced by softer, mournful cries.

Eventually, Amy looked up at her mother; panic and fear replaced by genuine concern and sorrow. "Mom? What did I do? Is everyone OK?"

Carole nodded her assent, and cradled her adult daughter in her arms. Amy leaned her head into Carole's shoulder. Amy's eyes closed; her mind focused on the sound of Carole's regular, strong heartbeat.

Amy was finally able to acknowledge consciously that she was safe. Max took his lead from Amy's return to silence, and leaned into his mother, sucking on his right thumb. There was peace in the apartment once again.

Carole looked up at Amy's startled and confused friends. Penny had experienced Amy's night terrors in the past, but she knew this was something completely different. From the look on their faces, Carole recognized Penny and Bernadette had not experienced this part of their friend… her Amy… before this day.

Carole immediately understood, and was just as instantly embarrassed. Carole tucked her head down to her chest, and observed her daughter's similarly bent head.

Carole started, "Amy's reaction to this situation is related to a chapter of _my_ life… one that I am not at all proud of."

Amy looked up at her mother, fully aware of where her mother was headed with her words. Amy attempted to enjoin Carole, "Mom, stop. You don't need to go any further. I know. That's enough."

Carole smiled toward Amy, but the tears started to flow in spite of her outward appearance. This time, Carole would not be denied, no matter the personal cost. "No, Amy. It's time they understood the truth. Maybe Penny and Bernadette… especially Bernadette, for the moment at least… maybe they won't make the same mistakes I made. If that happens, then all this will be worthwhile."

Amy's eyes searched her mother's, and saw that she was intent on her plan. "OK, Mom. Only if you're sure."

Carole nodded her agreement to Amy, and Amy buried herself back into her mother's shoulder. Then she looked up at Bernadette and Penny.

"At one time, I was very involved in family court cases… particularly, divorces and separations. There was a lot of pain in those homes. Parents literally at war with one another. Children caught in the middle, not wanting to choose but forced by circumstances to do so." Carole started.

"And, so often, there were no winners. The children, in particular, were collateral damage in those wars," Amy softly interjected.

Carole nodded, but kept her focus on Penny and Bernadette. "It was after a particularly ugly divorce; I was lead attorney for the woman in the case. I thought I needed to protect Amy from all of this. Get her through school. Make certain she had an advanced degree and wouldn't be dependent on anyone – let alone a boyfriend or a husband – for her survival.

And if Amy's friends were more interested in sports or boys than schoolwork, they weren't Amy's friends any longer. I made certain of that."

Carole looked down at the precious gift across her lap. "My hubris… _I_ knew what my daughter needed, better than _anyone_ \- including her father - and it nearly cost me _everything_. My relationship with Rob… and most importantly, Amy."

Carole's eyes closed, as if she could not bear to witness the harm her words would cause. "I started locking Amy in the closet, starting at age ten, when she couldn't pay attention to her studies. It appeared to work; Amy never complained, but I could tell she didn't want to be in the closet. Amy seemed to be trying harder in her studies. She was always gifted, don't get me wrong, but I knew Amy could always do better. 'Good' wasn't good enough for my girl.

Later, the list of offenses that warranted time in the closet grew… if Amy was playing with a girl in school that I didn't think was appropriate, or if I heard her talking about social happenings at school instead of studying, she was banished to the closet.

I kept Amy's punishment away from Rob. And Amy continued to keep her feelings regarding the situation to herself."

Carole breathed in deeply, steadying herself for what was to come. "One time, when Rob was away at a literary conference in New York, and Amy was about fourteen, I found her reading a magazine meant for teenage girls. By anyone else's standards, it was completely tame, but at the time, I saw red. I knew this was the start of a slippery slope – Amy would end up caring more about friends - and later boyfriends -than school, her grades would suffer and end any chance of an advanced college education. Amy would become pregnant, and bound and dependent on a man by their shared children. In the end, she would suffer the same fate as all those other young women I had known from work."

Carole's eyes opened, and Penny and Bernadette both leaned backward in their seats. They could see from Carole's visage why Amy had feared her mother for so long. The look on Carole's face spoke more than her words ever could. Carole had one focus; one reason for her being in those days. Protecting Amy. At all costs.

"Rob had caught an earlier flight home from the conference, and walked in the door intending to surprise us both. He did… just as I was putting Amy in the closet. Rob was incensed; he told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever put Amy in a closet again, we were through and he was taking Amy with him."

Carole scoffed. "Interesting, isn't it? That reality which I thought I had worked so hard to protect Amy from? I was facing the very real possibility of contending with it myself. And I loved Rob… before that day, on that day, and all the days since.

So, I promised… both Rob and Amy… it wouldn't happen again. He insisted on counseling, and we went. The therapist helped me to understand that what I was doing was a form of child abuse. I was shocked."

Carole settled her gaze on Penny. "Do you remember, a few years ago, when Amy had broken up with Sheldon for a while?"

Penny nodded. It had been a dark time for both her friends.

"Amy called me – I think you were all together that afternoon. She made some small talk, but you took the phone away from her and told me the truth behind the call.

I was disappointed. It wasn't the piercing of the ears, or the cookies she made. It wasn't even that she clearly couldn't bring herself to tell me on her own.

It was that Amy had broken up with Sheldon. I knew they had problems; everyone does. But I also knew Amy loved Sheldon, and inside of myself I knew Sheldon was her match. I only wanted them both to be happy… he challenged her to grow, intellectually and emotionally, and I believed she did the same for him. I wondered how this seemingly solid relationship could have possibly failed.

Do you remember I told you to shut Amy in a closet?"

Penny nodded again.

"It was the one and only time I slipped after Rob's ultimatum. As soon as I hung up with you, I realized what I had said. I couldn't… No, I _wouldn't_ go back down that road. So I called the therapist and scheduled an evaluation immediately," Carole said.

The room was quiet – even Max, who had fallen asleep. Max and Amy were being rocked in time, each in their mothers' arms; one on the couch, the other on the floor.

The front door opened, and three of the four Paintball players arrived, each covered in multi-hued paint marks and reeking of sweat and chemical fumes, but outwardly excited by both the experience and outcome of the game. It was Sheldon, ironically, who took note of the scene first, before the others.

Sheldon knelt in front of Amy and Carole, his head tilted quizzically to the side. Sheldon's face registered he understand something important had occurred here, but he didn't have the faintest notion what that was. Amy looked up at Sheldon, meeting his questioning gaze.

"It's OK, Sheldon," Amy started softly. "I was locked in a closet…"

"Sheldon, it's not what you think," Carole jumped into the conversation, as Sheldon's demeanor had changed from jovial… to inquisitive… to outraged understanding… in only a few moments.

Sheldon did his best to maintain his composure, but the glare he leveled at Carole that would have melted iron. The words that came forth were bitten off, one by one. "What. E _xactly_. Happened?"

Amy intervened, placing herself physically between her mother and husband. "I lost my balance and fell in the closet, then the door closed behind me. I don't remember anything after that; I guess I screamed and the next thing I knew, I was in Mom's lap on the floor."

Bernadette seconded Amy. "I think Max may have shut the door behind Amy. He's been doing that a lot at home lately."

Sheldon's head whipped around, and Bernie unconsciously strengthened her hold on Max, fearful for a moment Sheldon would lash out at her son. Instead, however, Sheldon's expression softened as he spied the sleeping toddler. He turned back to Amy.

"Are you really OK?" He asked her at a near whisper. Amy simply nodded.

Sheldon reached out both his hands to help Amy up off of the floor. Once he was satisfied she was settled – this time, in a chair – Sheldon turned to help his mother-in-law up as well. Sheldon was subdued.

"I'm sorry," he started. "I should know by now I can trust you."

Carole pulled him into a hug, "We've had ample opportunity in the past _not_ to trust each other. I'm glad we can work through this together now."

Sheldon nodded his agreement, and returned the hug. Amy and her child relaxed together into the chair.

Hours later, back at their home and just the two of them sitting together on the couch, Sheldon finally heard from Amy the complete story of the events that had occurred that afternoon at 4B. He laughed through the descriptions of the games, appeared envious of the cake (although his envy tempered by disgust as he reacted to Max's unhygienic fingers diving into the cake), and remained calm as Amy recounted to him what she remembered of the events involving the hall closet.

Amy described the smell in the closet when she first opened the door. "It's true that scent memory is one of the most powerful memories we have, Sheldon. The odor of musty coats, left to dry from rainstorms long ago, combined with dust… it just overwhelmed me. I wasn't _me_ – not 35-year-old me, at least. At that point, I was twelve-year-old me, and I knew that I was going to be trapped in that small room. The only light would come through the slats in the door, and it would be too warm, and the walls would feel as though they were closing in on me from all sides…" Amy's voice became smaller and smaller, until it fell off completely at the end.

Sheldon reached an arm around Amy, and pulled her in close. Amy could hear the acceleration of his own heart rate, feeling the fear she experienced earlier that day, and well as his own fear for her. But Sheldon's fear gave way… and Amy felt the strength underlying it. Sheldon would only ever love and protect Amy. And not just Amy, but Sheldon would also love and protect the child they created – the one that she was near to term with carrying.

Amy drew from that strength surrounding her, and finished the tale. "Today was the first time I fought back, Sheldon. Maybe not consciously, but…

Penny and Bernadette said they couldn't control my arms and legs to get me out of the closet. Mom had to pull me out herself, and I'm not certain that she isn't bruised for her efforts."

Amy leaned back, and looked up at Sheldon. "I always accepted it before. I couldn't deny my mother as a child, or my friends those years ago. But this time, I fought back. I think it was because, well, someone else was counting on me. _Our child_ needed me to protect him or her… and I wasn't going to let this situation take me. Not this time. Not ever again."

Sheldon reached over, pulling Amy back into his chest. They were both quiet for a while, reflecting on the past and what lessons could be gleamed from it. Amy's therapy as a child, and neurobiological education as an adult, gave her a greater understanding of what had happened to her, both in years passed and earlier this day. Sheldon knew his Amy was strong before. This was just another layer of strength neither of them had known she had.

Sheldon underscored his certainty in his wife – she was strong enough to stand up, for herself and for those she loved – in repeating back to Amy her own words.

"Not ever again."


	5. Chapter 5

A crimson explosive burst from its shell and burned as it flew across the California night sky. Much against Sheldon's fondest wish, it wasn't Superman. Not this time.

The entire gang was seated in outdoor chairs of various types on the front lawn of Sheldon and Amy's home, watching the fireworks being launched by both their group and the others in the neighborhood. In the past, Sheldon had hated the holiday. Amy put her understanding of sensory overstimulation disorders to good use, helping Sheldon discover the underlying cause of his issue with fireworks. Amy then guided him toward the best ear plugs in the pharmacy department at the store.

With the protection from sound the ear plugs provided, the Fourth of July became a holiday centered on the physics of rocketry – mass, acceleration, and the greatest of them all, explosive thrust. And what red-blooded all-American uber-geek wouldn't love that?

This year, the Fourth of July proved to be a moderately warm summer evening, and the result was entirely too much money being spent on entirely too many legalized explosives.

 _No one is sleeping in this neighborhood tonight,_ Amy thought darkly. _At least I won't be the only one._

At thirty-five weeks, Amy's abdomen was heavily distended, however the baby was still sitting just high enough to interfere with her breathing. Amy found herself more and more easily fatigued, although her back remained free of the discomfort of carrying the pregnancy lower. Amy's thankfulness for this small mercy was modest, indeed.

Sleeping was miserable for Amy. The greater truth was a _lack_ of sleeping: there was no comfortable position for her to lay. She was waking frequently during the night; in addition to a general discomfort in bed, it also seemed that the baby found great joy in wanting to play when its mother wanted to sleep. The latter represented a precursor, without a doubt, of things to come.

Howard stepped back from the curb at the street, where Sheldon, Leonard, and Raj were debating the placement and order of the next fireworks to be launched. He appeared headed to the table near the grill with the coolers, but stopped in front of Amy, Penny, and Bernadette.

Looking directly at Amy, Howard asked, "Can I bring you something? Some desert, or a soda?"

Amy smiled at her friend. "A bottle of water would be great."

"Hey!" chimed Penny and Bernadette in unison, as Howard started to walk away.

"What am I, chopped liver?" asked an all-too-quickly enraged Bernadette, ready to jump out of her lounge chair.

"No, but Amy's the pregnant one. I remember what it was like for you when you were pregnant with Max." Howard responded as he returned with the bottle; he was quick to defend himself.

Bernadette's outrage faded as quickly as it flamed initially. She turned toward Amy, as Howard handed Amy the bottle.

"So, have you and Sheldon settled on names for the baby yet?" Bernie asked.

In spite of the seemingly unending fireworks explosions around them and the best ear protection available, Sheldon's Vulcan-like hearing didn't miss the remark. From multiple feet away, Penny, Bernadette, and Howard could see Sheldon's spine straighten, and could nearly feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. They turned in perfect unison to see Amy's eyes narrow as she looked toward Sheldon's direction.

"Oops," Penny said in a low voice.

"I take it there's been no final decision made?" Howard coaxed Amy, gently.

Amy glared at her friend, who nearly jumped backward from his spot beside her. Then, her facial features softened. Howard, after all, was not the source of her irritation.

Amy genuinely smiled at Howard to let him know he wasn't the reason for her frustration. "No," she said, as sweetly as she could manage. "There hasn't been a decision yet."

"Yes there has," turned Sheldon, ripping the earplugs from his ears that made fireworks tolerable. He was obviously irritated with the turn of events. "Jack, if it's a boy…"

"Not this again!" Amy jumped out of her chair… or, at least, as best as her body would allow her to, "You know I love MeeMaw, nearly as much as you do, but even _she'd_ tell you not to name our baby after your grandfather, or any other family member for that matter. You'll only saddle that child with the memories others have of the one that's no longer with us, or with expectations based on the one still here. It's just not fair!"

Sheldon charged onward, but not before rolling his eyes. It was obvious this argument had played out before, likely several times over. And as with all forms of insanity, there was no change in the result.

"… _and_ if it's a girl, she'll be Marie."

"Oh, rapture," Amy cried, folding her hands over her heart melodramatically. "We've moved on to Madame Curie! Last week he wanted Rosalind, for Franklin, who helped discover the DNA double helix!"

"Hey, she was a biophysicist! I thought it was a good compromise!" Sheldon retorted.

Raj tried to intervene, to stop the argument before it went beyond the point of no return. He gently rubbed Amy's arm. "What do you want for names?" he asked her.

Amy's facial expression softened, while Sheldon's eyebrows almost knit together in the midst of his forehead.

"Laura, if a girl," Amy very nearly sighed.

This time, it was Sheldon's turn to grimace. "At least one of my choices is after a family member. Hers come straight from _Little House on the Prairie_."

Amy's chin lifted, her voice defiant, as she stood immediately in front of Sheldon. Their faces were paradoxically far apart, in spite of their respective stomachs' immediate proximity to one another.

"Well, if you get your heart's desire," Amy told Sheldon, and everyone else within earshot, "and it's a boy, he's Edward."

Sheldon's response was openly snide. "So, we're back to the classics at least. _Sense and Sensibility_ , unless I am mistaken?"

Amy's smile was sweet, but the malice underlying her voice was evident. "Well, you never are mistaken… are you?"

Suddenly, it appeared the fetus, him or herself, had had enough of the parents' bickering. The baby was head down, and the donkey-like kick upward struck the mother from the inside, and was felt from well outside by the father.

Sheldon looked down at the spot on his own stomach he had felt his baby kick at him, then looked up at Amy. Her right eye was shut and her face contorted, as she was wincing in pain. Suddenly, the cause of the spat didn't seem nearly as important to Sheldon, as the person he was having it with.

Sheldon took Amy's hands in his own. "Are you OK?"

Amy nodded, but took a minute more to gather herself before she spoke. "I just got the breath knocked out of me… Give me a moment."

Sheldon led Amy back over to her chair, and helped her to sit back down. He grabbed an outdoor cushion from one of the reclining chairs (much to Raj's chagrin, it was the one he had been using) and propped Amy's back with it.

"Better?" Sheldon asked. "Much. Thank you." Amy replied.

Penny hopped out her chair, and moved it closer to Amy. She motioned for Sheldon to take her seat instead.

Penny squatted down in front of her two friends - who she had supported long before they had any inkling of what would come for them both. She took Amy's right hand and placed it in Sheldon's left.

"Guys, there's still time. Even if you haven't decided before the baby comes, maybe you're not supposed to. Maybe, when you see her face…"

Sheldon shot Penny a look of derision. Penny laughed.

"… or _his_ face, maybe then you'll just know. However it happens, it will be the way it's _meant_ to be for both of you. Hasn't it always been that way?"

Sheldon looked over at Amy, and this time the grin she favored him held no anger behind it. Sheldon squeezed Amy's hand inside his, and she responded in kind.

Sheldon's serene smile never left Amy. When Sheldon spoke, his answer to Penny's question was to them both, "Yes. Yes, it has."

Amy tried to lean in as best as she could; Sheldon quickly realized Amy's limitation, and met her more than half way to kiss her gently. Amy's eyes opened afterward, and her smile was soft. "Go on. You won't get to do this next year with an infant at home."

Sheldon leaped out the chair, plugging the sound mufflers back into his ears, to jump into the celebratory fray. Penny took the seat Sheldon had vacated.

Amy leaned in to Penny, "So, when…"

The remainder of Amy's question was drowned out as a flurry of firework explosions lit up the night sky.

######

Three weeks later, Amy sat on an examination table, robe open to the back, patiently waiting for Dr. Matthew Brown to come into the room. The cool air in the office felt good against the hormonally-induced elevated temperature of Amy's skin, but to Sheldon, who sat in the side chair, the room was freezing cold.

"I don't think I've been this cold since the North Pole," grumbled the impatient Sheldon, as he turned the page of the book he was reading.

Amy sighed. "Put your jacket back on, then. You realize this office is set for the patients… most of which are pregnant women?"

A brief knock at the door – Sheldon summoned great effort of will not to complete the series of three knocks – and Dr. Brown entered the room. He was middle aged, with some greying of his hair and evidence of many laughs in the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Dr. Brown always had an air of kindness, and calm certainty. It made Amy feel, no matter what happened, he would be able to make everything right.

Dr. Brown apologized for the delay. "Sorry, you two. I was caught by an unexpected delivery at the hospital."

Amy smiled at her obstetrician. "I understand," Amy replied. "Did everything go well?"

Dr. Brown smiled at his patient. "We made our goal."

Sheldon had learned Dr. Brown's "goal" the first time they met, when he and Amy came for Amy's initial obstetrics examination in January.

"A healthy mother, and a healthy baby," Sheldon recited.

"Exactly." Dr. Brown's smile was infectious. "Nothing else matters."

Dr. Brown walked over to the sink to wash his hands, and Sheldon helped Amy lay back on the examination table. Dr. Brown took a flexible tape measure from his coat pocket, and assessed Amy's abdomen, nodding to himself as he turned to the nurse to record the measurement. He felt around the stomach, stopping briefly at the top, before moving onward. Amy, laying fully reclined with her eyes closed, missed Dr. Brown's momentary frown. Sheldon, however, did not.

When he was done with the external examination Dr. Brown's nurse assisted Amy in the placement of her feet in the stirrups, and the doctor brought the light over to complete his assessment.

"One centimeter dilated, 50% effaced," Dr. Brown called to his nurse. Amy's eyes opened; the joy contained within was plainly evident in her voice.

"I might go early?" Amy's voice rang with jubilance and hope.

"You might…" Dr. Brown's response was not as happy as Sheldon or Amy would have expected, after working with him over several months.

Dr. Brown continued his assessment, pushing on Amy internally for what seemed like an eternity in a most uncomfortable manner. She began to appreciate the change in his demeanor and facial expression, and wondered what was concerning him.

Finally, Dr. Brown had finished; he removed his gloves and turned to the nurse beside him. "We'll need a sonogram. Can you call over and let them know Amy's on the way?" The nurse nodded, and grabbed the cell phone from her pocket as she left the doctor and the family alone in the room.

Dr. Brown looked at Amy, sensing the fear in her heart by the look in her eyes. He smiled at her. "Amy, we're still on track for our goal. We may be making a change in plans, though."

Amy was only slightly mollified. "What's wrong?"

Dr. Brown took Amy's hand, and demonstrated to her the same push on the top of her stomach, where he had spent an extra moment earlier. "Do you feel that?" Amy nodded.

Sheldon came around from behind Amy. Looking at her for permission, which she granted immediately without a word spoken, Sheldon also reached his hand to the top of Amy's stomach. He felt the tightening muscle underneath her skin, but nothing unusual. Sheldon looked quizzically at Dr. Brown, who laughed lightly in response.

"It's OK, Sheldon. You have to push a little harder."

Sheldon tried again, and this time, he met against an internal resistance… about the size of an oblong baseball, and just as hard.

Sheldon's head came up, and he and Amy looked at Dr. Brown. Realization was in Amy's eyes, but Sheldon still did not know what he had felt. Sheldon asked for both of them – understanding for himself, confirmation for her – "What is that?"

Dr. Brown's smile was genuine. "Your child's head."

"Breech?" Amy's fair facial complexion paled to near white.

Dr. Brown nodded. "At this point, we'll get a sonogram to confirm position and staging of the pregnancy. You're thirty-eight weeks by the calendar at this point; presuming the measurements agree, you'll continue as normally we would have anyway for another week. We'll schedule you for a Caesarian section next Thursday, unless 'Junior' here decides to turn around in the meantime."

Dr. Brown saw Amy's face lighten a little. He brought her back to Earth. "Amy, don't get your hopes up. Space is getting to be at a premium inside your uterus. There's the baby, and placenta, and fluid for protection… and very little room to maneuver. I'll wager you're feeling movement much less often already."

Amy nodded.

"We don't even try external versions on first pregnancies because they aren't often successful, and are highly stressful for both you and the baby."

Dr. Brown sought to reassure the couple. "Sheldon… Amy… look, guys. Everything's fine. This baby is happy and healthy inside of you. He or she will continue to grow, and develop, just as is supposed to happen. In another week, we'll meet at the hospital. If the baby has changed to a vertex position, we'll induce for a vaginal delivery so the baby doesn't get a chance to change its mind and switch again. If not, we'll do a C-section. Either way, we're at goal."

Sheldon recited once more, this time quietly and without his typical self-assurance, "Healthy mother, healthy baby."

Dr. Brown had known Sheldon now for several months, and knew of his challenges. Matt thought often of his own brother when he saw Sheldon… Michael was two years younger, and suffered from the same difficulties, especially with acceptance of change. Michael was incredibly intelligent, and well suited for a career in architectural engineering, but amending a plan "on the fly" would render him nearly catatonic.

Matt stepped over to Sheldon, and put his hand on Sheldon's left shoulder. Sheldon uncharacteristically didn't negatively react to the touch; the face he raised to meet Dr. Brown's was full of fear for his wife and their unborn child, yet hope that Dr. Brown would see them through.

Matt smiled. "Sheldon, we see this every day. I know the 'not knowing' is the worst for you. It would be for my brother, too. Go with Amy to sonography. See your baby inside of her. See with your own eyes and believe: everything is fine. We have a plan, and all will be well. Trust in that."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and the nurse reappeared. She murmured to Dr. Brown, and he turned to Amy.

"They're waiting for you, Amy. Go ahead and get dressed, and when you're ready, Sarah will take you over. If you don't hear from me today, everything was fine on the sonogram, and you'll check in at the hospital next Thursday at 7:00 am. I'll meet you about 8:00, and we'll plan on the C-section at 9:00. You'll likely be home Saturday afternoon, with the new baby in tow. Any questions?"

Amy looked at Sheldon, who looked almost as surprised as she felt. It appeared everything was in place, and they had just one week left when it would be just the two of them.

"I guess not," Amy replied, shrugging. She hoped she didn't sound as unsure as she felt.

Dr. Brown took Amy's hand. "It's not just Sheldon who's uncertain, is it?" Amy shook her head, but kept it low.

Dr. Brown raised her chin with one finger, and looked her directly in the eye. "You're not supposed to feel one hundred percent wonderful about this either, Amy. It's major surgery, don't kid yourself. But in the end, it's the safest way to deliver you, and I'm confident we'll be at our goal in less than one week. You can call me, _any_ time, with _any_ questions. OK?"

Amy nodded, feeling more certain. She knew she'd chosen Dr. Matthew Brown for a reason.

Matt left the room, and the nurse gave Amy the time she needed to change back into her clothes. Amy and Sheldon walked over to sonography, and sat only a few moments before Amy's name was called. She laid out on the examination table, and lifted her shirt to expose her stomach. The sonographer squirted the warm jelly onto her abdomen, and applied the ultrasound device to Amy's stomach, moving it around and clicking on a controller on the sonogram computer.

"First, I'll make several measurements… head, spine, femur," the sonographer reported as she clicked away on the computer.

Amy watched in awe as the skull came into view. The technician drew measurement lines with the computer, and Amy could see that all appeared formed correctly. She finally breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. Brown was right… Amy just needed to be patient and have faith.

Sheldon heard Amy's sigh, and watched her body as she outwardly relaxed from head to toe. Amy understood the biology better than Sheldon did… although it still seemed impossible, maybe his anxiety could lessen as well…

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, came a soft but firm, "Stop."

Amy and the sonographer both looked at Sheldon, who had thus far been unusually quiet. Amy took Sheldon's hand, and marveled as a tear slid down his cheek.

"What is it?" Amy asked, softly.

"Watch," Sheldon commanded, quietly. His face never left the computer.

Amy and the technician turned back to the computer screen. Her measurements had already been completed, but behind the lines Amy could plainly see motion.

In the very middle of the computer screen, all three observed in reverent silence.

Two atria contracting, then two ventricles.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

A perfectly formed, four-chambered heart. Beating in perfect time, the heart's chambers were moving blood throughout the embodiment of Amy and Sheldon's love for one another.

It was a sight that moved Sheldon to tears. In that moment, Sheldon knew peace. In one week, as Matt had only just told him a few minutes before… Sheldon now saw with his own eyes, and finally truly trusted and believed…

They would be at goal.

######

Sheldon drove and Amy sat in the passenger seat, as they headed home after the doctor's appointment. Both gave each other the gift of quiet, to reflect on what they had seen and been told, and how their lives were set to change dramatically in just a few short days.

As they pulled into the garage, the UPS delivery truck pulled up alongside the curb to their house. "Were you expecting something?" Amy asked Sheldon.

"No," Sheldon replied, turning off the engine to the van and looking through the side mirrors to the driver unloading a box from the truck behind him.

Amy and Sheldon got out of the van, and Sheldon walked up to the driver while Amy walked up the sidewalk to unlock the front door.

The box that Sheldon signed for was nearly as tall as Amy, and had to be transported in by dolly. Amy thanked the driver for bringing the box inside. After the driver left, both Sheldon and Amy looked at each other quizzically.

"OK. So, where did it come from?" Amy asked.

Sheldon spotted the delivery label near the top of the box panel in front of him.

"Nacogdoches, Texas… Mom? MeeMaw? What on Earth did you do?" Sheldon wondered aloud, as he surveyed the box for a different label that might hint at the box's contents.

When neither Sheldon nor Amy could seem to find a clue outside the box, Amy walked out into the garage to find a utility knife from the tool box. She brought the knife back and handed it to Sheldon. Sheldon slid the knife through the packing tape at the top of the box, and opened the panels. Inside…

Bubble wrap. Lots and lots of bubble wrap, encasing something apparently very special. And a card.

Amy took the card, while Sheldon tipped the box on its side and pulled out whatever was inside, fairly heavy and "mummified" in bubble wrap.

Amy opened the card, and looked up as Sheldon began to unweave what felt like miles of plastic protection.

"It's from _both_ of them."

Amy's awed, whispered report caught Sheldon's notice, and he looked at her in mid un-wrap. She continued, as Sheldon handled the plastic now with great care.

" _Thirty-eight years ago, we were blessed with two angels from heaven: Missy, and you, Sheldon. Missy was the easy-going one, who required minimal care and took everything in stride._

 _You, Sheldon… and we love you very much… you were our challenge. From day one, you would tolerate nothing amiss. Slightly wet and you would cry. The stirrings of hunger would make you rage against the world. Dirty? Never for very long. You let us know right away._

 _But you knew you were loved, and in particular, in your MeeMaw's arms you were bound to be at peace. You knew where your home was._

 _When we found out that you and Amy were to be equally blessed, we decided together you should have this. We pray you will take as much joy in spending time with your child in this, as MeeMaw most certainly did with you._

 _All our love, Mom and MeeMaw"_

Amy looked up from her reading, to see the final vestiges of plastic fall away… from a beautiful, old, but recently refinished and reupholstered rocking chair. Sheldon could not remember clear back to his infancy – no one can, no matter what Sheldon of old would have thought – but even he remembered the feeling of being held by his MeeMaw. The love that he knew was unconditionally his, taught to him from infancy in the warmth of her embrace and the gentle motion of this very chair.

Sheldon cried openly for the second time that day. Amy set the card down, and came up from behind him.

"It's absolutely beautiful," Amy whispered, as she wrapped her arm around Sheldon's waist. His tears began to ebb. "May I sit in it?"

Sheldon silently nodded. Amy gently lowered herself into the frame, amazed that in spite of her advanced stage of pregnancy she was still able to fit into it with ease. She began to rock back and forth, and found the gentle creaking (nothing that wouldn't be solved with a little mechanical lubricant, to be sure) was soothing to her emotionally spent soul. It had been quite the day.

Sheldon knew he needed to move the chair to the baby's room down the hall, but it would wait, just a few minutes more. For his part, Sheldon was struck by the beauty of this moment as well: Amy, his adored, heavily pregnant with their child, her eyes closed, rubbing a hand over the top of her stomach, and humming along a lullaby he knew so well in his heart.

 _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine  
_ _You make me happy, when skies are grey  
_ _You'll never know, dear, how much I love you  
_ _Please don't take my sunshine away…_


	6. Chapter 6

_Sheldon wandered the halls of a beautiful, ancient stone building with marble floors. The home had an aura of ages long since passed, but this was no relic. People of wealth and note would live here…_

 _The air was cool and crisp; it was fall wherever he was. Sheldon knew he was searching, but he knew not what for…_

 _Coming into a vast, open room, Sheldon saw a broad, wooden table encompassing the majority of the room's space, with a few chairs covered in leather or fur off to the sides. There were multitudes of shelves around the perimeter of the room, mostly holding figurines or pottery._

 _On a high shelf was the most beautiful of vessels Sheldon had ever seen. Made of clay and fired until a burnt umber color, it had intricate carvings and runes Sheldon could not decipher, even with his highly intellectual mind. One word came to his mind, likely from reading history books during his childhood._

 _This was a pithos – a Greek lidded jar that would be used to store wine, oil, grains, or other necessities._

 _This particular pithos was large enough to hold a small child._

 _Sheldon was admiring the jar, when he heard footsteps approach. Somehow knowing he didn't belong there, Sheldon turned to hide behind a tapestry against one of the stone walls. Sheldon observed a man dressed in ancient Greek robes and of shorter stature than himself, enter the room and look at the items on the shelves. He lifted the pithos Sheldon had been admiring, and set it carefully on the table. A second man of similar attire as the first, and near the same height as Sheldon, followed the shorter man into the room. The taller man was obviously upset by the scene in front of him._

 _The second man cried out. When he did, it was seemingly not from his own vocal cords, but from inside of Sheldon's head. He spoke in words from an ancient language that made no sense to Sheldon, but Sheldon's brain appeared to know how to translate them on its own._

" _Prometheus, what are you doing?"_

 _Prometheus turned to the taller man, and Sheldon was able to see Prometheus's face for the first time._

 _Prometheus had Leonard's face._

" _Epimetheus," Prometheus answered, sighing heavily. "Brother… haven't you been listening? I couldn't stop you from marrying her, but to keep this gift of hers from Zeus in your own home… it is simply madness!"_

 _Sheldon tried to thumb through decades of memories in his brain, and found the recollection neurons were not firing in normal sequence. There was too much fog… too many roads leading to nowhere… Sheldon was left to simply watch the events unfolding in front of him._

 _Epimetheus lifted the pithos from the table and placed it back on the shelf on the wall. His voice continued to emanate from Sheldon's own head._

" _It is not ours to decide." Epimetheus put a comforting arm around his brother, over to the opposite shoulder. "Truly, the pithos is her dowry."_

 _Prometheus cast a sorrowful glance upward toward his brother. "Then it shall be your downfall."_

 _The brothers left the room, and all was quiet once more. Sheldon thought briefly about coming out from behind the tapestry, when a petite, raven-haired woman crept into the room. Sheldon was immediately entranced. Her dark hair was woven in braids over her head, her feminine curves gently draped in a white gown, her fair skin glowed in the dimming light as twilight was at hand. She took the daintiest of steps, gracefully avoiding all the surrounding furnishings in an obvious attempt to eliminate any noises being heard outside the room._

 _The woman lifted the pithos from its shelf, and placed it on the table. She gathered a key from around her neck, and put the key in the lock. The woman summoned her courage in a deep breath, and appeared ready to turn the key… but then thought the better of it. She removed the key, put the pithos back on the shelf, and left the room._

 _Sheldon was left to wonder who the beautiful woman was, whose face he never quite saw. Sheldon tried to leave the safety of his hiding place to follow her, but couldn't make his legs move. A few minutes later, still in a quandary, Sheldon heard the soft footsteps return. The same woman crept back into the room, moved the pithos back to the table, and once more put the key from around her neck into the lock. Sheldon was certain she would open the vase, but once again, the woman's nerve appeared to give out… and she replaced the pithos and left once more._

 _This time, Sheldon held his ground, and only a few moments passed before the dark haired beauty returned. Sheldon tried desperately for a different view… one that would allow him to see her face. The Fates appeared to be taunting Sheldon, as the woman's face remained hidden in the shadows. Once again, she pulled the key from around her neck, and placed the key in the lock of the vase. This time, however, she was successful in turning the key. The pithos opened._

 _Gifts from the Greek Gods often came with a high price. This gift… one from the high leader of the Gods himself… had a high cost, indeed._

 _The woman started to scream, as a seemingly unending swarm of buzzing, stinging, moth-like creatures poured forth from the opening of the pithos. Sheldon watched in horror as the woman fell to the floor, her screams fading to moans. His heart ached, as he watched the insects sting and bite at her._

 _Sheldon finally found his voice: "NO!" he screamed._

 _In unison, the insects and the beautiful woman they were attacking turned their gazes on Sheldon. And Sheldon beheld the beautiful woman's face for the first time._

 _She had Amy's face._

" _Epimetheus!" This Amy cried out in horror, looking directly at Sheldon._

 _In an instant, the insects that had been attacking this Amy turned on him. Sheldon never felt a single bite or sting on his skin. Instead, Sheldon felt their wrath and venom in the worst of his memories that paraded themselves in front of Sheldon's psyche…_

… _in the schoolyard bullies that scared and belittled him as a child_

… _in the fights between himself and his father, who tried to "make a man of him" in the worst possible ways_

… _in grieving the loss of his Pop-Pop, and the lack of closure with the death of his own father_

… _in the briefest glimpse into loneliness after Sheldon's first fight with Amy, and the despair that he would never love again the summer they were apart._

 _In the span of a heartbeat, Sheldon knew all that was ill in the world. He knew pain, suffering, wrath, indignation, loneliness, isolation, and worst of all, despair. Sheldon was ready to give in and let the darkness take him… when he felt a warm, soft hand grasp his._

 _Sheldon opened one eye just a slit, and saw Amy, but not his Amy, smiling gently at him. She was holding his right hand in her left. This Amy raised her right hand so Sheldon could see what she kept protected there – a small, winged dragonfly of the most brilliant blue Sheldon had ever seen. The insect left her hand, and flew to within the slightest of distances from Sheldon's face. The dragonfly appeared to sigh, and her breath fell over Sheldon. His wounds miraculously were completely healed._

" _What is her name?" Sheldon asked the woman. She raised her hand to touch the unblemished skin of Sheldon's cheek, and opened her mouth to answer his question…_

Sheldon awoke to find Amy's hand stroking tears from his cheek. Amy was sitting upright in their bed; her eyes wide open. Even though the only source of light in the room was moonlight through an open window, concern was evident on her face.

"What's wrong? You cried out in your sleep," Amy asked softly.

Sheldon relaxed as the fear and panic of the dream slowly left him. He proceeded to tell her the entire story about the dream, the people who looked like them but weren't themselves, and the opening of the vase and the contents that appeared to desolate his very being.

Amy slid back down under the covers, wrapping herself with Sheldon's arm and laying against his side, holding him tightly. Sheldon completed the story, "I heard the two men's names: Prometheus and Epimetheus. They must have been something I've read before, because I remember them from somewhere… but I never heard her name." Sheldon's smile carried unaired laughter. "You woke me before I found out who your alter ego was."

Amy chuckled. "I can help you with that, as long as you promise not to leave me for her. Although that would take some doing."

Sheldon was more than a little curious. How would Amy know who this woman from his dream was?

Amy's smile was contagious. It wasn't often she held one over on Sheldon.

"That was Pandora you created in your dream. The "box" in all the stories? It was never a box. That was a mistranslation from the Greek. The container was actually a pithos… a lidded jar."

Amy's face changed; she looked at Sheldon and spoke with incredulity in her voice. "Pandora was a product of Hephaestus's fire and clay, and Athena's breath of life, and Aphrodite's beauty… wow. Seriously? Your subconscious gave her _my_ face?" Amy was awed and touched.

It was Sheldon's turn to smile, this time, at Amy's disbelief.

"How could I do otherwise?" Sheldon asked, as he rolled onto his side. He stroked the back of his hand against the side of Amy's face. "I've told you for years… I really do think you're beautiful."

Sheldon leaned in toward Amy, and kissed her lovingly. He pulled her into both his arms, and Amy looked over his shoulder, squinting to see across the bed to his bedside table… and the alarm clock.

"Sheldon," Amy said, with regret underlying her words, "it's nearly 1:30. The alarm is going to go off in a little over 4 hours. We should get some sleep."

Regretfully, Sheldon allowed his arms to loosen and Amy slid from her side onto her back.

Sheldon was drifting off, when he heard Amy's whisper…

"You should get some sleep, too, little one. It's going to be a big day."

Sheldon smiled, and added, softly, "We can't wait to meet you."

######

As Amy predicted, the alarm sounded far too early for both hers and Sheldon's liking. Everything about this day was planned, and both Sheldon and Amy set about their individual tasks for the early morning. Sheldon grabbed a granola bar he would eat later for breakfast, once Amy was settled in at the hospital. She wouldn't be allowed to eat or drink anything until after they knew if a C-section was going to be necessary.

Amy started to pick up her overnight bag, stopping only after a stern look and negative shake of the head from Sheldon. Amy rolled her eyes as she silently walked away toward the door to the garage. _You'd think you'd learn, Amy Farrah_ … she thought.

Sheldon drove as they left for the hospital, each lost in their own thoughts. Amy's right hand never left the top of her stomach, pushing from different angles to see if she could find out for herself which way her baby was positioned inside. This time, however, their child would give no clues. They would have to wait for the hospital for Dr. Brown to give them the news: whether Amy was headed for an induction, or a C-section.

As Sheldon and Amy were ahead of schedule when they arrived, Sheldon parked in the parking garage and they walked into the hospital together. Despite pre-admission being completed the week before, there was still information the hospital needed prior to admitting Amy. Soon enough, however, Amy and Sheldon were headed to the elevator, pushing the fifth level button: the Maternity floor.

Coming off the elevator, Sheldon and Amy met a staff person at the entrance desk to the floor. Amy was shown to a private room, where she would either deliver the baby, or be brought back to after surgery. In spite of being in a clinical setting, the room was appointed to be as comfortable as possible. There was a couch along a side wall for visitors to sit, and a fold-out chair to convert into a bed for an overnight stay. The room was painted a soft hue of green, and was decorated warmly. Amy was glad she had chosen this place to deliver their child; she felt comfortable here.

Amy picked up her cell phone to text her parents and let them know which room she had been assigned. Rob and Carole had agreed days before not to come to the hospital until after a delivery decision had been reached. Sheldon would call his Mom and MeeMaw and the rest of their friends after the baby was born to let them all know as well.

Soon after Amy had changed into the hospital gown and was settled, a nurse came to their room to start the IV. Amy winced, and Sheldon looked away as the needle was inserted into Amy's arm, but the discomfort was short-lived for them both.

Next, a sonogram technician entered with a cart to address the all-important question of the morning. He squeezed the tube of jelly onto Amy's stomach, and ran the scanner across Amy's abdomen. This time, Sheldon and Amy knew what to look for on the computer monitor. Both of them breathed in deep and synchronous: holding the breath, hoping against hope…

Sometimes, prayers are answered in the way the questioner asks. And other times they are answered, but not as we hope.

Amy was the first to breathe out, disappointment obvious in the sound leaving her larynx and the expression on her face. She didn't need to look down to see where the scanner was viewing, when the familiar skull outline came into view on the monitor. Sheldon first heard Amy's sigh, then saw the scanner.

It was at the top of Amy's stomach, near to the sternum.

Dr. Brown arrived near the end of the scan, attired in scrubs. He smiled toward Amy and Sheldon, but took note of the downturned faces presented back to him. Matt turned to the monitor, and saw immediately the reason for their shared discontent.

"OK, so now we know what the plan is. We scheduled the OR for 9:00, so in about 30 minutes the nurses will bring you down the hall, and anesthesia will meet you first in the OR for the epidural. Amy, you can only have one other person in the operating room with you…"

Amy immediately took Sheldon's hand in her own, nearly afraid for him to let her go. She trusted Dr. Brown implicitly, was willing to leave her life in his more than capable hands if needs' be. But Sheldon she trusted with her soul. There would never have been a question for Amy as to who would be in that room with her when she delivered their baby.

Dr. Brown also knew there was never any question… but he needed to offer anyway. He smiled and nodded.

"… Sheldon, if you follow Andy," Dr. Brown motioned to Andy, and the sonogram technician nodded to Sheldon, "he'll show you where to change. You can wait with Amy until they're ready to take her back to the OR. The only time they won't let you in the room is when anesthesia is administering the epidural."

Dr. Brown turned back to Amy. He smiled gently… Amy was reminded once again how much Matt seemed like a father to her.

"It won't be long now, Amy. Do you have any questions?"

Amy swallowed hard. This wasn't the way she wanted the day to go, to be sure… but if she and the baby were both healthy at the end of the day, wasn't that really all that mattered?

Amy tried her best to smile genuinely at Dr. Brown. "No. I think I'm just ready to be done with this part."

Matt took Amy's hand and squeezed it gently. He didn't think there was anything else he could say that would reassure her – Amy would find the strength she needed from within herself, and her relationship with Sheldon.

Matt turned, squeezed the antiseptic foam onto his hands, and turned to shake Sheldon's hand. Sheldon appreciated how Dr. Brown seemed to know how to make him as comfortable as possible.

"I'll see you in there," Dr. Brown said to Sheldon. "She'll do fine."

Sheldon nodded to Dr. Brown, and turned and kissed Amy gently.

"I'll be back as soon as I've changed clothes," Sheldon told her. Amy nodded.

Sheldon followed Dr. Brown and Andy out of Amy's room, and Andy led him to the men's changing room down the hall. Andy gave Sheldon a set of scrub shirt and pants, a disposable hair cover and shoe covers. Sheldon nearly balked at having to put on someone else's scrubs, but then he remembered Matt telling him the scrubs are professionally laundered and treated for use in an operating room.

When Sheldon walked back into Amy's room, Amy's breath was nearly taken from her. Seeing him attired so…

"Wow," Amy breathed. "This is actually happening, isn't it?"

Sheldon chuckled. "The last time you said that…"

"Just before we walked over that bridge together at the bed and breakfast?" Amy took Sheldon's offered hand, and smiled up at him the same way she had that day. "Yes, I remember."

Sheldon sat on the edge of the bed next to Amy. They both silently watched each other's hand entwined in the other – seemingly unable to tell where one ended and the other began. Their lives had been entwined for years – ever since that fateful day in a coffee shop in Pasadena – and today becoming parents for the first time meant an altogether different bond between them that would never be separated.

Sheldon and Amy sat so, together, until they were startled out of their reverie by one of the operating room nurses. She had a kind smile, and invited Sheldon to stay in the room until they came to bring him back as well. Sheldon acknowledged the nurse's instructions, but before Amy left him, he leaned over to kiss her goodbye.

"I love you. I'll see you in a few minutes," Sheldon whispered in Amy's ear, holding her close one more time.

For her part, Amy didn't want to be let go of, either. "I know. I love you, too."

Amy reluctantly let go of Sheldon, and took a step backward. Amy smiled at him, hoping to express faith and strength she wasn't certain she felt. But, for the moment, everything was out of her hands.

Amy left with the OR nurse, and Sheldon was left in the room by himself. There were constant sounds throughout the facility, but Sheldon neither heard nor saw anything. He felt only Amy's absence. While he knew in his head they were only a short walk down the hallway from him, in his heart, it felt as though his wife and unborn child were miles away. And it would be forever until he saw them again.

Just before Sheldon's fear got the better of him, when he would have gone down the hallway on his own to find Amy... Rob and Carole walked into the room. In spite of the emotional turmoil wreaking havoc on Sheldon, he managed to smile at Amy's parents.

"They've taken her to the OR, for the epidural. I have to wait until they come to get me."

Carole's hands flew to her face, "Oh, God! We're too late, Rob! I didn't even get to see her before…"

Sheldon understood Carole's feelings, as they were much the same as his own. Sheldon reached over to take Carole's hands in his own, while Rob reached around her shoulders.

"She's fine, Carole. I think Amy's just feeling that she's ready to have the surgery over with. You'll see her as soon as they release her from recovery; they'll bring her back here. You and Rob can wait here for us to return."

The same nurse that had taken Amy out of the room earlier, returned for Sheldon at that moment. She confirmed what Sheldon had told his in-laws; they were welcome to wait in Amy's room for Amy, Sheldon, and the baby to return.

Carole was only slightly mollified, but Rob knew nothing short of seeing Amy would completely settle her.

Rob nodded in his appreciation of Sheldon's efforts. "You'd better go. But Sheldon…"

Sheldon turned back toward Rob, on his way out the door. Rob's eyes were watering.

"Tell her… tell her we love her. Please."

Sheldon stepped back into the room, and hugged Rob. Then he stepped back, and clasped Rob's shoulder with his right hand.

"Always."

######

The anesthesiologist had completed his work, and Amy had a flexible tube leading into her back, delivering medication that would soon make her numb to enable the surgery. The nurses assisted Amy leaning back onto the operating table, and began setting up the drapes. Amy began to allow her fears to take over, and in her last vestige of maintaining control, Amy turned to one of the nurses.

"Would it be OK if someone went and got Sheldon now? I'd really like him to be here."

The anesthesia nurse's eyes smiled over the top of her respiratory mask. "He should already be on the way…"

From behind the nurse, the OR door opened. Sheldon walked in, his eyes looking half scared. He spotted Amy, and relief flooded his being.

Amy did her best to keep the tears from flowing, but some things will not be stopped. Sheldon sat where the nurse directed him, next to Amy's head, and he reached over to wipe the tears off her cheek. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head through the respiratory mask.

Amy felt her own fears subside. With the two of them together, was there really anything she couldn't face?

"Your Mom and Dad are here. They'll wait for us in your room. And they told me to tell you they love you," Sheldon reported. Amy couldn't see the smile underneath the mask, but the ones around his eyes were genuine.

Amy looked up at her husband, relief in her eyes. She marveled once again at how far they had all come, to be together on this day.

When Dr. Brown walked in the OR, Amy felt prepared and peaceful. A surgical nurse assisted Dr. Brown in putting on the sterile gown, and Matt turned toward Amy and Sheldon.

"OK, guys. We're ready to get started. Any last minute questions?"

Sheldon and Amy shook both their heads in unison.

Matt smiled through his mask. "I'll tell you what I'm doing as we're going so you know what to expect. There will be times you'll feel pressure, but there shouldn't be pain at any point. Speak up if you feel pain at all, OK?"

Amy nodded, but Sheldon looked directly at Dr. Brown.

"Just keep them both safe, OK?" Sheldon implored.

Matt understood. He'd seen multiple fathers in this moment, and fear of the unknown appeared to be the unifying factor.

"Absolutely Sheldon. I told my wife's obstetrician the same thing when she was delivered. Amy and the baby are first priority."

Dr. Brown disappeared behind the drapes, and Sheldon and Amy could hear multiple noises: clicks of surgical instruments in use, gas pressure of oxygen being passed through a nasal cannulus to Amy, conversation between the surgical staff during the procedure. True to his word, Dr. Brown provided a turn-by-turn account of all the steps and structures involved, to Amy's professional interest and Sheldon's gastrointestinal dismay.

Soon enough, however, came Dr. Brown's fateful words: "Uterine incision."

Sheldon looked Amy directly in the eyes, and squeezed her open hand. They were moments away, and both knew it.

Suddenly, a sharp cry called throughout the room, followed by a chorus of cheers from the surgical staff.

"Oh, how beautiful!" exclaimed one of the nurses.

Matt came to the surgical screen, and lifted something wrapped in a surgical towel. The small human being contained inside… pink, slightly bloody, and screaming at the top of its lungs… kicked the towel free from around its waist and hips.

Sheldon was awestruck. He looked at Amy, and saw the same amazement in her own face.

 _This_ was what he and Amy had created. What they had wanted so desperately, waited so long for. It was finally here.

Dr. Brown exclaimed, "It's a…."

* * *

A/N: Sorry... I couldn't resist. See you next week! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Sheldon sat on the couch off to the side in Amy's hospital room, outwardly quiet. Inside, however, Sheldon's thoughts and emotions were in a jumble; he was unable to pull them together in any semblance of order. Sheldon did not want to disturb Amy, who was trying to learn to feed their child, or Carole, who was trying to help. Amy had been through a Caesarian section that morning, and while all had gone well and Dr. Brown was pleased with the outcome, it was still major surgery. Amy needed time to recover, and it appeared time was going to be at a premium for a while.

Rob came into the room, bearing a drink carrier from the cafeteria on the main floor. Tucked inside the cardboard container were three hot beverages and a bottle of water. "As everyone ordered…" Rob pronounced, smiling.

"Decaffeinated tea with milk for Amy," Rob said as he handed his grateful daughter the drink. She immediately double-checked to ensure the lid was securely fastened.

"Fully leaded coffee for Carole," Carole kissed him on the cheek in thanks for the beverage.

"And a bottle of water for…" Rob stopped in mid-sentence and mid-air, not quite handing Sheldon the bottle. Neither Amy nor Carole looked up, as they were too busy with the infant to notice Rob's initial reaction to his son-in-law. But Rob saw something in Sheldon's face that he recognized from years past.

Fear. Anxiety. And a silent plea for help.

"Amy, I'm going to borrow Sheldon for a moment," Rob's eyes never left Sheldon's face. It was not really a question, more a statement of fact.

Amy picked up on the subtle difference immediately. She looked up, concern starting to take a toll on her features. "Is anything wrong, Dad?"

Rob turned to look at his daughter, attempting to reassure her. "No, honey. Everything's fine." Rob stepped up to the side of Amy's bed, kissed his daughter on the cheek, and went over to give Sheldon a hand-up from the hospital couch.

Amy looked at Sheldon with concern. "Are you sure you're OK?"

Sheldon nodded, but was afraid to speak. He wasn't certain he would be able to keep the tears at bay.

Amy's worries grew as her husband came over to her hospital bed, but appeared unable to meet her gaze. Sheldon was looking past her when he leaned in. His kiss was nearly perfunctory; Sheldon then turned to leave.

Carole's hyper focus on her grandchild was finally broken by a silent wave of fear from her daughter. Amy was shaking and near to tears herself. Carole's questioning glance fell directly on Rob, who appeared to understand but was either unable or unwilling to express it out loud.

Nearly forty years of marriage has its benefits. Carole's trust in Rob was implicit. If Rob said that all would be well, then it would be. Her gaze wordlessly relayed Carole's reaffirmation of her faith in Rob.

Carole put her free arm around Amy, and hugged her in close. Amy looked down at the gift life had bestowed upon her this very morning. Beautiful, bright pale blue eyes stared back up at her.

Somehow, Amy's mind focused suddenly. Amy knew, whatever war Sheldon was waging within himself, he would have to meet his foe head on if he was going to win the day. And if anyone could help Sheldon win this particular battle, it was Amy's father. Theirs had become a relationship much more than one of father- and son-in-law. Sheldon looked to Rob for friendship, guidance and love, which had come in short supply over all too brief a time from his own father. For his part, Rob also sought out a closer relationship, treating Sheldon as the son he had never been blessed with.

 _You keep staring through me, little one_ , Amy thought. _I'm not sure how you've done it, but somehow I think I can do this._

Amy's mind was determined. She looked across the room at her father. "Help him, Dad. Please."

Rob smiled at Amy. "You've got it, Pumpkin."

######

Rob caught up with Sheldon in the lounge on fifth floor, where it appeared the ferocity of Sheldon's pacing would soon wear a trench into the commercial carpeting. _Maybe I should have brought him coffee instead_ , Rob thought.

Rob's gentle touch on Sheldon's right shoulder as he was walking past startled Sheldon, and he jumped. This time, Rob actually handed Sheldon the bottle of water.

"Come on. Let's sit and talk," Rob implored, quietly. Sheldon nodded, relief starting to soften the arched appearance of his shoulders and stiffness to his gait.

Rob directed Sheldon to a quiet corner in the waiting area; a small table with two chairs on opposite ends. Rob set his cup of coffee down on the table, and lifted the lid off. The smell of coffee had always been enticing to Sheldon, the flavor less so. Sheldon would drink coffee, but only under the most dire of circumstances.

At this point, Sheldon wished Rob hadn't brought him water, either.

Sheldon couldn't look Amy's father in the eye. Deep inside, Sheldon knew he deserved the disappointment Rob was almost certainly feeling for his son-in-law. Sheldon sat, focusing at the cap on his bottle, alternately screwing the lid closed, and loosening the lid nearly to open.

Sheldon knew he was going to have to trust somebody, sometime. This may be his best opportunity, he realized.

"I'm not certain I can do this," Sheldon admitted, softly.

Rob blew softly across the top of the hot liquid to cool it enough to be drunk. He took a sip, and while it wasn't as good a cup as at home, this coffee wasn't half bad.

"Not certain about what?" Rob asked, calmly, in a similar volume to Sheldon's.

"All of this!" Sheldon's voice raised a little, both in ire and volume. A few other heads in the room turned in their direction, and Rob put his hand over Sheldon's to calm him. The other heads turned back away.

Rob's gesture helped. Sheldon's voice and fear toned down… slightly. He was finally able to look Rob in the eyes.

Sheldon relented. "First: that's our… Dear Lord, it's _my_ little girl in there with Amy. A girl? What do I know about girls? I have a sister, sure… but we're so different I still don't know anything about them. And the majority of our adolescence, I was in Europe finishing my degree and teaching, while she was in Texas, finishing high school. I don't know anything about how to take care of our daughter, from the very basics right now, up to what to do as she gets older. I'm completely out of my depth here."

Rob chuckled mirthlessly, "Well, that puts you one up on me, Sheldon. I only had brothers. And I still muddled through with Amy."

Sheldon sighed petulantly. "I thought at least I'd know what to do with a boy, Rob. I could take him to see trains, and we could build model trains together. I could take him with me to the comic book store, and he'd learn all about the Marvel and DC universes. I'd start teaching him physics as soon as he was able to understand gravity…"

Rob jumped in at this point, some impatience showing. "Sheldon," he groaned. "You know you can do all those things with your daughter. I did with Amy. Where do you think she learned about literature? Where do you think she developed her passion for Chaucer?

You'll do all those things with this girl, and more. You'll learn what interests _her_ , what drives _her_ , and you'll grow to love and support those things, too. You'll hold her when she cries because things aren't going the way she wants them to, and you'll cheer with her when they do."

"I know," Sheldon responded softly, more than a little ashamed. He knew how chauvinistic it sounded, but the feelings were still there. Having them aired, out in the open… well, somehow that made them more manageable. And if those could be managed, maybe the bigger ones could be, too…

Sheldon reached deep inside, and lowered the last of his defenses. Rob loved him like a son, Sheldon knew. Maybe he would understand…

Sheldon's face fell, and his pupils dilated fully. Nearly none of the blue remained. But in this moment, he faced his father-in-law and laid everything out for him.

"What kind of father will I be?" Sheldon asked, his volume only a hair above a whisper.

"A good one," Rob answered, being as honest with Sheldon as Sheldon was being with him. "I'm certain of it."

"Really?" Sheldon was far from certain himself. "I didn't exactly have a good experience with my own father. My Pop-Pop stood in as best he could, but Pop-Pop died when I was five. My own father was barely there for me; he didn't know how to act around me. I wasn't the sports and hunting enthusiast my brother was, so my father didn't have much time for me. When he did spend any length of time together, we never had anything to talk about. He didn't understand my interest in science. School was never important to him."

Sheldon continued, seemingly unable to stop now. "When I was in school at home, the kids didn't know what to make of me either. I was teased unrelentingly, because I didn't know how to talk with them. Anything I was ever interested in, they couldn't care less. And kids can be merciless. When my father found out, he told me to 'tough it out.' Either ignore it, or fight them… and neither was a good answer."

Sheldon took a deep breath, gathering his internal strength. "When I finished school at fourteen, I went away as quickly as I could. I took the first opportunity to go out of the country. When my father died months later, I came home." Sheldon shed a tear he didn't know he had for the man who gave him life, but seemingly very little else.

"But I never had the chance to say goodbye to him. And I'll never know what he really thought of me."

Rob wasn't certain what to say, and took a long drink of his coffee that had cooled while they spoke. He remembered his relationship with his own parents… ones who had loved him and supported him in everything he wanted to do. Rob supposed he was blessed in ways he would never truly understand, because he had never known anything different.

But Sheldon had. And so, in some ways, had Amy… and Carole…

"Sheldon," Rob began, "you need to remember something. You're not your father."

Sheldon was brought up short. He stared blankly at Rob.

"Sheldon, you are the product of both your mother and your father's genetics, and the experiences you had throughout your life. They are, by their very nature, different from that of your parents. As you said, you also had your Pop-Pop and MeeMaw as a part of your life. How could you possibly be a copy of your father?"

Sheldon pondered that for a moment, taking a drink from his water bottle. It did make sense, after all, but…

"If that's not enough to convince you, Sheldon… what about Amy? Do you think she's a copy of me? Or of Carole?" Rob asked directly.

Sheldon gulped at the prospect. He respected Carole – she was Amy's mother and deserved as much – but Amy was much more openly loving, while Carole's edges were much sharper than Amy's. Carole and Sheldon had worked much harder at developing their relationship than Sheldon had with Rob. Still…

"No," Sheldon said flatly. "I shall always love Carole, as she is Amy's mother, but it has not been easy. Amy, on the other hand…"

"Exactly." Rob smiled. "I love Carole, but I know sometimes she can make it harder to do."

Rob's face became serious. He leaned forward over the table, commanding Sheldon's attention. "Look, Sheldon… if you're looking for me to tell you I think you'll be a perfect father, I won't lie to you. You won't be… you _can't_ be. No one can. But I know the two of you will work together to get through the mistakes you make throughout life. You'll have both Carole and me, and your family back in Texas, to call… to share the wonderful times, and the times when the going gets tough."

Rob held Sheldon's gaze unblinkingly. "Sheldon… do you love Amy?"

Sheldon didn't bother to think before he responded; the answer was as easy as breathing. "Yes, Rob, I do."

"And your daughter?"

This was equally simple. "Absolutely. She's a part of both of us."

Rob leaned back in his chair; his characteristically easy smile once again graced his features. "Then that's all that matters. The rest will work itself out."

Sheldon relaxed back into his chair in a similar manner. He and Amy were in their middle thirties… had the best education… and families not only willing but wanting to support them. Surely they could manage this somehow…

He smile weakly at Rob, "As long as you're sure you won't mind a few calls from time to time…"

Rob's laughter carried throughout the room. "Are you kidding? Sheldon, I'm counting on it!"

Rob got up out of his chair, and pulled Sheldon out of his own. Rob hugged Sheldon tightly, and Sheldon was unable to control the feeling of hope flowing outside of his heart. A few tears escaped his attempt at tight control.

Rob felt the dampness on his shoulder and smiled gently. He whispered in Sheldon's ear, "You'll do fine, son. Just fine."

The two men separated from the embrace, but Rob's arm stayed firmly across Sheldon's back and clasped to his opposite shoulder. They walked the short distance down the hallway and into the room Amy had been assigned, and Rob's hand never left its hold. When they made it back into the room, Sheldon saw Amy's head lift, her expression a mix of fear and love for him.

"Come on, Carole, let's go get lunch. We'll leave these three alone," Rob suggested. Carole kissed her daughter on the side of the head, and hugged Sheldon tightly. She then willingly joined her husband as they walked out of the room.

The moment they were alone together, Sheldon walked much more determinedly over to his wife's bedside. She was unable to stand yet without assistance, so he sat next to her on the bed. Their daughter lay asleep in the bassinette nearby.

Sheldon took Amy into his arms holding her tightly. For her part, Amy didn't ever want him to let her go.

"I wasn't sure, Amy," Sheldon whispered in her ear.

Amy's eyes started to water. "Sure about what, Sheldon?"

"I wasn't certain that I could be a good father to her," he admitted softly.

Amy's tears immediately ceased. She pushed him back from her, to look him directly in the eye. Amy's face was a tour de force of determination. "What on Earth ever gave you the idea you wouldn't be?" she demanded.

"I didn't exactly have the best experience with my own father growing up," Sheldon started.

"So?" Amy interrupted, forcefully.

Sheldon chuckled, in spite of recent events. When Amy was resolute, her patience was exceedingly short. Sometimes, Amy's mother's influence came to the fore.

He reached over and squeezed her hand with his own. "Your Dad said essentially the same thing… in a few more words than just 'So?'"

Amy relaxed. Rob had promised to help, and it seemed he had been successful.

"Sheldon," Amy started, more calmly this time, "we'll do fine. We'll have good times and bad ones, just like everyone else. And we'll make it through."

Sheldon leaned into Amy for a gentle kiss, and Amy was glad to wash away the memory of the last one with this loving gesture. When they broke free, Sheldon reached around his wife to hold her once more.

Sheldon and Amy rejoiced in a moment of silence and love together. The baby slept blissfully on.

######

In the middle of the afternoon, the first of Sheldon and Amy's friends came to see the new family. Carole and Rob made way for Leonard and Penny, who joyously but quietly entered the room. Penny rushed over to hug her Bestie close, and Leonard shared a similar hug with Sheldon, before the pair traded places and embraced the other partner.

Penny turned and saw the little girl was awake in her grandmother's arms. Penny exclaimed, "Oh, let me hold her!" Carole obliged, if a little unwilling to turn loose of her granddaughter to anyone.

Penny perused the little girl up and down, counting fingers and toes. When the baby looked Penny directly in the eyes, Penny was startled.

"Oh, Sheldon. She certainly has your eyes, doesn't she?"

"And Pop-Pop's," Sheldon added, stepping beside Penny and looking over her shoulder.

At that moment, a hospital employee stepped in the room. "Mrs. Cooper?"

"That's _Doctor_ Cooper…" muttered Sheldon, underneath his breath. Penny heard him and chuckled; Amy heard him and smiled his direction.

 _Let it go, Sheldon_ , she sent to him a silent admonition.

"Yes," Amy responded to the employee's question.

"I'm Heather from Patient Services. I have the standard paperwork we need to complete before you can be discharged tomorrow… the birth certificate application needs to be completed and signed by you and the baby's father, and the SS-5 so we can apply for a Social Security Number for her."

Heather looked over at the bundle in Penny's arms. "Oh, she's precious. What's her name?"

The room dropped to complete silence. Amy's parents, as well as Leonard and Penny, knew of the difficulty Amy and Sheldon had in deciding on a name for their child. To the best of their knowledge, nothing had been settled on yet.

Amy looked at Sheldon, and Sheldon answered on their behalf, "We haven't made a final decision yet."

Heather read the tenseness of the situation perfectly. It wasn't her first rodeo, either.

"Oh, there's no rush. Take all the time you need. I'll come back later for the forms; we just have to file them prior to your discharge."

Heather handed the paperwork to Amy, and smiled. "Congratulations. She really is beautiful."

As Heather left the room, Leonard stepped over to stand beside Penny. He looked down to the bundle in Penny's arms, and then smiled up at Sheldon.

"Penny's right. She mostly has Amy's features, but definitely your eyes, Sheldon." Leonard chuckled. "Between Amy, Carole, and Penny, have you even gotten to hold her yet?"

A chorus of three chimed "Hey!" in unison, to the laughter of Leonard and Rob. Sheldon did not answer, as a memory inside of Sheldon took hold and led him.

" _Even if you haven't decided before the baby comes, maybe you're not supposed to. Maybe, when you see her face…"_ Penny had said weeks before. Wordlessly, Sheldon gently reached into his best friend's wife's arms, and lifted his daughter out of them. Sheldon sat with her in a side chair built for one, his daughter in the crook of his arms, looking upward at him.

The baby blinked, and upon opening, her eye color briefly appeared to change. The new shade was the most brilliant blue Sheldon had ever seen… at least, while awake…

 _A small, winged dragonfly of the most brilliant blue Sheldon had ever seen…_

Sheldon became lost in a trance. Guided by his daughter's eyes, Sheldon's conscious thought returned to the dream the night before… to the ending Amy's wakening had inadvertently stolen from him.

" _What is her name?" Sheldon asked the woman. She raised her hand to touch the unblemished skin of Sheldon's cheek, and opened her mouth to answer his question…_

" _Hope," this Amy answered. "After all the evils are released and allowed their run throughout the world, infecting all and leaving despair in their wake, she is the only thing that is left."_

 _The dragonfly returned to this Amy's hand, and settled calmly there. "In the end… Hope is all we have."_

Sheldon's vision cleared, and he returned to the present time. He looked up from his daughter, over to where Amy sat on the bed, a questioning look in her face.

"Hope," Sheldon whispered, reverently and with awe.

"What?" Amy asked, gently.

Sheldon shook his head. His voice grew stronger. "Not what. _Whom_. Hope."

Understanding slowly crossed Amy's face, and she started to cry.

"That's perfect," Amy choked out through her tears.

Leonard was the next to solve the puzzle of Sheldon's cryptic words. "Oh!" he exclaimed quietly.

Penny, Rob, and Carole all looked at Leonard with bewildered expressions. Sheldon stood and brought their daughter over to sit with Amy. Sheldon and Amy's heads touched, as their shared gazes remained on their daughter.

Leonard explained to the others what Sheldon had said, and Amy had agreed to.

"The baby's name. This is Hope Cooper."

"Almost, Leonard," Amy looked up as she corrected him softly. "This is Hope Caroline Cooper."

Amy looked at Sheldon, as his face shot up to her. "Is that acceptable to you?"

"Absolutely," replied Sheldon.

Amy explained to the others. "Another "C" for this family… for Sheldon's MeeMaw, Clarice, his mother, Mary Catherine, and my mother, Carole. Presuming it is OK with you as well?" Amy looked at her mother.

Carole started to sob; her tears would not be stopped, even by Rob's hug from the side. "Oh, Amy… it's more than OK."

"Hope…" Amy mused, looking again at her daughter. "Truly, in the end, hope is all we have ever had. Through all the struggles we've faced," Amy looked back up to Sheldon, her love for him evident in her gaze, "the one thing we never lost was hope. And now, here she is, confirmation that hope is all we will ever need to be able to see life through."

"Although I don't think we'll ever be able to listen to Neil Diamond's 'Sweet Caroline' the same way again…" Sheldon said as he grinned at Amy. The room was instantaneously filled with the sounds of laughter and love.

* * *

A/N: A loving reminder to all the ShAmy faithful, who have been emotionally torn for our favorite characters in these first episodes of season 9. I firmly hold to the belief that a reconciliation of the canon couple will occur, it is only a matter of when and how. Don't give in to despair. In the end, Hope is all we have. Blessings to you all.


	8. Epilogue

A/N: This epilogue is being posted as the second part of a double-posting. If you haven't read Chapter 7, this won't make as much sense. Turn back now! :)

Otherwise, if you caught the preceding chapter already, then onward...

* * *

Pasadena, California  
August 2018

The last five days had passed in a blur that every parent of a newborn infant can understand. The hours and days fade into one another in a constant rotation of feeding, burping, changing, and cleaning. Sleep is often a precious commodity, and between equal and loving partners, a shared gift.

Such as it was with Sheldon and Amy. Hope kept them hopping, as she proved to be much like her father. She did not tolerate being wet or dirty, and let her parents know immediately if she was suffering the indignity and discomfort of either. Hope would give a low warning cry in the event of hunger, but she would "go from zero to _seriously_ upset" if she wasn't seen to quickly.

However her challenges, Hope was also like her father in another respect. Hope knew she was loved, and found great comfort in either parent's arms. Hope also quickly found a set schedule was to her liking, much to the great joy and relief of Sheldon and Amy. She ate well approximately every four hours, and needed changed predictably an hour later. It would be a while before she slept through the night, but there was no unexplained fussiness or crying.

And Hope, along with her Mom and Dad, soon found their way with one another.

While Sheldon's Mom and MeeMaw wouldn't be in town for two more weeks, other family and friends had come by the house since Amy and Hope were released from the hospital to see the new baby. They brought gifts, easy to prepare meals, and their best wishes. Sheldon kept a ready supply of hand sanitizer available, promoted as a prevention against infection by the pediatrician who was assuming Hope's early care. Where Hope was involved, Amy backed Sheldon's diligence in avoiding illness, and all their loved ones understood.

The house was dark and quiet, when Sheldon awoke to a sound that was becoming all too familiar. Hope was becoming restless in her crib across the hallway. Sheldon rolled over and looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

 _2:30 am. Just like clockwork. Damn._

Amy had been the last one to bed, after Hope had fed last several hours ago. Sheldon knew he was on borrowed time, and flipped back the covers on the bed. He stepped his feet into his slippers immediately beside his bed, and walked past his robe on the hook on the wall. It was a warm late summer's night, and his pajamas would suffice.

Sheldon found his daughter wide awake in her crib. When Hope glared at him, he knew immediately the cause. Sheldon silently lifted his daughter out the crib and placed her on the changing table. He opened the drawer underneath and pulled out the fresh diaper, readying it and a warm wipe before undoing the current offender.

Sheldon, it appeared, learned from some of his early mistakes as a father. Experience is a wonderfully effective, if not always pleasant, teacher.

Blessed that this episode was only wet, Sheldon made quick work of cleaning his daughter and affixing a new diaper. He pulled the sleeper back down over her legs and feet to keep Hope warm, and carried her out to the kitchen. Hope watched with apparent great interest as the pre-prepared bottle was lowered into the warmer.

"Three and a half minutes, sweetheart," Sheldon told his daughter, quietly. "It won't be very much longer."

The timer on the bottle warmer chimed, and Sheldon lifted the bottle out with his free hand. He dried it on a nearby kitchen towel, and brought Hope and her late night infant snack out to the leather couch. Sheldon propped his arm on the arm of the couch, and turned the bottle up to his daughter's mouth. She greedily took to the nipple and started to suckle. Sheldon relaxed backward into the couch, and watched as his daughter fed.

Midway through the bottle, Sheldon thought to try to burp Hope, but she fussed at having the bottle taken from her, even temporarily. Sheldon immediately gave his daughter back the bottle. Maintaining peace and quiet was, to his way of thinking, the lesser of the evils.

That was Sheldon's first rookie mistake that night.

When Hope finished the entirety of the bottle, she became more fussy than usual. Sheldon lifted her upward trying to relieve the air pressure inside her stomach, and found no position that made Hope more comfortable. In the end, he tried lifting her to his shoulder…

The burp that issued forth from his daughter shook the foundation of their home. Or, at least, so it seemed to Sheldon.

Hope was quiet now, but Sheldon knew something was amiss. He felt something warm and wet, dripping down the front of his chest. When he looked, Sheldon groaned outwardly, his head and eyes turned to the heavens.

Sheldon's second rookie mistake? He'd forgotten to get a burp cloth before feeding Hope.

Sheldon's pajama top was covered in formula, newly christened by his daughter. _I know better!_ Sheldon fumed to himself, as he nearly stormed down the hallway. He placed Hope gently on the changing table, and stripped off her fouled sleeper. Sheldon stripped his own pajama top off over his head, tossing it toward the laundry basket, and went to reach into the dresser for a change of garment for Hope.

Then Sheldon stopped. A bright blue flash crossed his daughter's eyes, and a smile lit up her face, just for a moment.

Experts will tell you babies don't smile, because it is a learned phenomenon, not an inherent trait. Parents will tell you otherwise. Sheldon, too, knew in that moment… Hope was smiling at him.

And all Sheldon's frustration and anger at the situation left him, from one heart beat to the next.

Sheldon reached down and carefully lifted his daughter of the table. Clothed in only a diaper, he knew he needed to somehow keep her warm. Sheldon reached for a blanket off a nearby shelf, and brought Hope and the blanket to the rocking chair his Mom and MeeMaw had sent weeks ago. He sat carefully, and gently laid his daughter chest down on his own chest. Sheldon covered them both with the blanket, being careful to wrap Hope only to her shoulders.

Hope raised her head briefly to look at Sheldon. Her expression seemed to say…

 _It took you long enough, Dad._

Hope snuggled into the warmth of Sheldon's chest. Hope's fingers wrapped themselves in small tufts of the hair she found there, much to Sheldon's chagrin. Sheldon only had to tolerate the discomfort for a brief moment in time, as Hope soon found a comfortable position, and was still.

Sheldon closed his eyes along with his daughter.

######

Amy woke to find herself alone in her bed, the covers opposite thrown aside and the adjacent pillow cool. There was no noise she could perceive coming from another room in the house, so she similarly stood up, slid on her slippers, and left the comfort of her bed to find the other members of her family.

Amy didn't need to go far from her bedroom door to find evidence of Sheldon. She could see the pajama top, half in and half out of the laundry basket inside Hope's bedroom door. When Amy quietly stepped inside, she saw Hope's formula-fouled sleeper still on top of the changing table. Amy couldn't help but smile inwardly, as she quickly surmised what had transpired. She tossed the dirty garment in the laundry bin, and pushed Sheldon's pajama top the rest of the way in it as well.

Amy turned toward the crib, but was met first with a sight that nearly took her breath away. Sheldon was sitting in the rocking chair, presumably asleep, with Hope dreaming in his arms on his chest. They were covered in a blanket, resting together.

Amy's heart strings tugged, but she knew this wasn't a good idea for Hope's safety. Amy opened a drawer to find a replacement sleeper, and put it in the crib. She reached as gently and quietly as she could to take Hope from her position on Sheldon's chest…

"Don't," Sheldon commanded, softly.

Amy smiled. She watched Sheldon's eyes open in the moonlit room.

"Hope needs to sleep in her own bed, Sheldon," Amy admonished in an equally soft tone. "For her safety, as well as for her routine. Otherwise, Hope will think you need to rock her to sleep every time."

Hope stirred, and lifted her head to look at Amy. Amy chuckled softly.

"Don't look at me like that, little one. That one's mine," Amy advised her daughter.

Hope settled back into her original position, and closed her eyes.

Amy reached down to pick up her daughter, but Sheldon stopped Amy by taking her hand instead.

"Do you remember, months ago, when we looked at this house the first time?" Sheldon asked quietly.

Amy smiled, and pulled up a nearby chair to sit beside Sheldon. "I do."

"Do you remember what you said? About this being a house, but we'd make it a home?"

Amy closed her eyes, recalling her exact words. "Home is what we make of wherever we live."

Sheldon nodded. Then he squeezed her hand. " _Our_ home, Amy… our home is where you and I are, and now, where Hope is as well. Our home is what we make of it. All of the good and all of the bad that will come. It never mattered where we were, as long as we were together in it. _That_ is home."

Amy stood, pulling herself together emotionally as best she could in the wake of Sheldon's newest understanding. She took Hope from her father's arms, and dressed her quickly, placing Hope in her crib. The newborn infant never woke in her mother's new but seemingly experienced hands.

Amy turned back to Sheldon, and held her hand out to him. Sheldon stood from the rocking chair, which glided soundlessly to an eventual standstill.

Amy stepped up to Sheldon, releasing his hand and sliding her hands up around his neck. Sheldon reached up and placed his arms around Amy's waist. She kissed him, releasing all the emotion she had held in check in the previous few minutes. He responded, astounded by Amy's voracity he had not expected to find in this moment.

Amy broke the kiss and leaned back slightly. She looked deeply into his eyes, and quietly said with great conviction, "Then welcome home, Sheldon."


End file.
